Let’s take a picture of us kneeling in a pasture

So, I’ve been doing a lot of reading and a lot of reflection like I tend to do, and I’m starting to take a closer look at my life. I’ve been living in my new apartment for almost a full month. It’s had its trials and tribulations, but I’m pushing through. There’s a whole process to being domestic, where I thought “domestication” was only about cooking and doing laundry. Keeping house is more than it looks and while I’ve found many things to be a chore (i.e. getting contact paper to put on the nasty kitchen cupboard shelves so as not to put my clean dishes directly on them and buying roach poison for my little friends that like to come visit), it has its simple pleasures.

I finally got my furniture yesterday evening and I expect to spend the next few days putting my house together so I can finally throw out those cardboard moving boxes. I’m also getting some paintings framed and doing some needlepoint to decorate a bit.

And in the midst of all this, I pause and step back to take a look at my life. I wish I could take a snapshot of right here and now, so I could hold it up to my future self and say “Look-it here! See, you were happy.” Most of the time, I’m not really sure what I am. And it could change at any given moment. Sometimes I think I’m going to die without ever knowing what it’s like to be truly happy. I think a lot of us are the same. I think that we get so wrapped up finding love, earning that million, and having the perfect cookie-cutter life, that we miss the little things–that moment where we can pause and take the snapshot of our lives. It’s the little things that make life worth living because they are so rare and precious. And because they are so personal, and un-looked-for no one can take them away. But then again, no one can give them to us either. We have to be willing to keep on without knowing whether another one will come, because if you go looking for it, you will miss it. You will miss it. If it wasn’t for these little things, I would have to say that life just wasn’t worth living. Some might argue with me, but what’s the point of everyone chasing after the same dream, running with their arms outstretched and their fingers wiggling saying “gimme gimme”. That’s just asking to get hurt because it makes life like war with everybody fighting and struggling to get there first, to snatch up and destroy another person’s dream for the sake of their own.

My dreams are my own. These little moments are just mine. They can’t be bought. And they are worth the pain of living.

Today I got the urge to drop to my knees and pray. Now, I’m not a very dedicated prayer, and I’m not usually one to go about praying here, there and every where. But I’ve been thinking more about religion and more about prayer lately. One thing I have always been is faith-full. Even when I’m about to break (or on occasion, have broken), some where in my mind, I know that the Goddess has me, that she’s holding me up. If she wasn’t, I would most surely be dead now. More and more, I feel her there. And though I don’t do all I think I should, like pray more, do ritual and things of that nature, I feel our relationship getting stronger. By faith alone I stand.

Now, I don’t know what caused me to call out “Deliver me!” in the lunch room today and maybe I don’t actually need deliverance right now, but I don’t think people pray enough (myself included). I don’t think we call out enough when we need help. The man said “Lean on me/when you’re not strong/and I’ll be your friend/I’ll help you carry on/for it won’t be long/til I’m gonna need/somebody to lean on”. We know that as human beings we are fallible, yet there are people who walk alone, truly alone within themselves and are too afraid they’ll get slapped to reach out when they most need it. Our fellows are falling all around us. And we’re just watching. Maybe that “Deliver me!” wasn’t really for me, per se. Maybe I just heard someone crying in my heart, someone who was missing the little things, who needed a hand to guide them out to a breezy field of purple grass, under God’s twilit sky, to kneel and teach them how to cry.


About fenifuego

Just trying to make sense of myself and the world.
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