A Little from the Abstract: Introspectively

There is a street that runs up a hill not too far from my house. I like it up there. I like the way the street bends and winds around. I like how it moves through the upstate land and country homes. I like that I can breathe here. I’m out of the City. I’m away from the elements, so to speak. I’m out of the current climate and away from the political arguments and the detrimental rhetoric. I’m here on my own with my chest to the wind and the breeze through my hair, which I have decided to grow out again for just such an occasion.
I love these walks. I love each step I take because each step tells me that I’m moving closer to something. And I might not know what this means. I might not know where I am or where I’m going but at least I know that I’m not standing still.

I don’t want to stand still. I think the world is a still place sometimes. I think this leads me towards too much of the same thinking; and yet, there’s so much I want to share. There’s so much I want to shed and be rid of. There is so much to do and so little time, and yet, there are so many times when I feel small and the world is so big. It’s huge and I am this tiny glimmer in the vastness of something as almighty as the universe.
I wonder to myself.
I walk and I step. I look around at the world I live in
I look and I wonder if anyone sees the same thing. Or am I alone? Or am I only in partial company? This means people can see partially, just not the whole picture. It certainly feels this way sometimes – to be alone, I mean, or at least partially; which is not necessarily a bad thing. I say this because while alone, I can speak now. I can talk and get my thoughts out. I can tell my secrets to the sky and let the birds fly off with them; to be taken away, never to be seen or heard from again. I say that’s a good thing when regarding the unwantable, regrettable yesterdays. I mean, after all, we have to get rid of them somehow.
Don’t we?

There was a time I took to the side of a mountain. I found my way up towards one of the scenic overlooks. I stood out on the ledge and looked down. I looked around. I looked at the sky. I looked at the variation of the landscapes around me. There was nothing else to see. There was no one else around. There was only me and my thoughts. There was me and my dreams, my hopes, my worries and my need to breathe freely.

There are times when the weight of the world is on our shoulders. And the weight is heavy. The breathing is burdensome. The need to feel free, to want, to need, to laugh, to dance and sing without the sound of critics or anyone else, and the need to be distant and unhinged like the red-tailed hawk that circles above the mountains – this to me is as freeing of a thought as the winds that shake the trees. I like that.

I don’t claim to know more than anyone else. I don’t claim to be anyone else, any better or worse. I’m only me. I’m only a man, a human and someone looking to find that porthole to climb through and find myself in the window of opportunity.

I suppose I have to understand that doors open and close all the time. I have to understand the trees are not always green in my neck of the woods. Life is cyclical. There are seasons to us all; there are times when we are rich and poor, happy and sad, and healthy or sick. To each is their own season. To each are their own times to personalize autumn, to settle in the winters, rebirth in spring and to flourish in the summertime. 
I hear the summer will be here soon.
And that’s a good thing too.

I have a few places I want to go. I have a beach I need to visit. I have these ideas. I have pictures in my head that I want to see in real life. Maybe this is as simple as time that has yet to unfold.
Maybe these visions I have for myself will change as I go along. Maybe I’ll make it to where I want to be OR, maybe I’ll understand that where I am is exactly where I’m supposed to be. 
I mean, where else could I be?

I stalled for a minute, I was writing and then I paused.
And why?
I stopped because I gave into concerns.
I started to wonder about interpretation.
I started to think about “Hey, what does this sound like to anyone else?”
Am I crazy?

Whether I am or not is irrelevant anyway.
Only I know what I mean here, which is why I say this introspectively.

I was telling you about the hill up the street near my house. I’ve seen the sun peak out from around the bend. I always took this as a symbol. I’ve always seen this as sign that yes, there was a hike to get where I am but there is still more in store for me.
All I have to do is keep stepping towards the sun. Keep moving. Keep being and quit worrying about the interpretations and the outside opinions. The truth is no one else is there with me when I face the mirror for the last time before I go to bed at night.

As a matter of fact, here comes the sun right now.
I can see the sky beginning to change. I can see the climate changing too. Daylight savings is coming up this Sunday, which means the warmer months are on the way.
This means that my side of the hemisphere will regain its color. This means whether I go at it alone or forward in any direction; I know that there is more in store for me.
I just have to hold tight.
This means there is no fear. There is no worry. This means I can be me and stand alone, independently, which is actually a victory and not intended as an insult to anyone or anything else.

The spring will be here soon. This means the rebirth of so many things. And me, I don’t want to miss out on any of this because I was too burdened to look around.
I don’t want to be so hinged or caught up that I forget how it feels to have the new warm sun beat down on my face. I don’t want to waste anymore. I don’t want to give in to the inaccuracies in my head (or make them real).

I don’t want to miss another sunrise because I forgot the one thing I always need to do: To take care of myself.
I forget to do this sometimes.
Sounds crazy right?
I forget to take care of myself sometimes..
I don’t want to do that anymore . . . 

Do you?

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