Just to Write: A Little More of the Abstract (To Keep Us Warm)

And sometimes, just like that, the page is over. The chapter ends and our pages turn from one to the next, leaving us reeling because that past is still so new and yet, tomorrow seems so far away. There are motions in the world, which are more like revolutions, or like the times we spin around the sun. There are seasons when the hemispheres lean towards the warmth of the sun and there are winters when we move further away. 

It is said there is a season for everything. Or like it says in Ecclesiastes; there is a time for every activity under heaven. There will be times to laugh and find us in the best places and eating the best foods. There will be quiet moments where the sunset and the scenery says everything —and at times like this, words have no place. There will be times when the wind touches our face and the sun is warm, bright and high as ever. And there will be days when the clouds are too thick and the world itself is nothing more than sad and dank, or dim, and all one can do is wonder when the sun will shine brightly again.

There are times when we will be rich with success. We will hover the borders of our dreams and fantasy will grace the face of our realities. The wave we ride is high and the tide is moving in. There are times when all things line up accordingly—and the world is pleased. All is right. For the moment, there is nothing left to do but drink the experience to become drunk with it; to be euphoric, high, like the times when the soul is vaulted and all else is nothing more than soft and unobjectionable.

There are times when the sky is so beautiful. The City is packed with an unmistakable romance, which is unlike anything else in this world—and to each place is their own beauty, yet sad, yet stinging, yet still; there is all the beauty in the world, encompassing you and me, granting us the moments lent to everyone by the Almighty Mother Earth and restored and savored in memory by Father time.

Here I am, late at night, sifting through the old dialogues and memories. I am thinking of course. Awake, as usual, and wondering about the little passageways that change the course of our life.
One choice; one decision, or one slight move and the ripple effect is truly incredible. And what I mean is anything; anything at all can change our direction.
I am alive and well, not weeping, not sad; just feeling and sifting through my ideas, looking back at all the openings and closures of new things and new times that eventually grew old or outdated.

There is nothing left; and yet, there is everything. There is no contract between anything. The world is ever-moving and ever-changing. This moment is no different from the one before it. Everything is fleeting. Everything is temporary. Everything has led us up to here and where we are now, which is fine; which is about to turn a page and yet, I have no idea where this story will take us. 

They say, no one knows the hour.
The say that no one knows the day.
Not the angels of Heaven.
Not even The Son.
Only the Father knows.
(Which means I don’t.)

I only know that in each life, a little rain must fall. I know that one cannot be without the other. There can be no yin without the yang, no sunlight without moonlight or night without daytime.
I know that there is a season for everything—and there will be times when we are accompanied by great moments. We will do great things. We will say great things and meet great people. And likewise, there will be times when the bottom drops out. The bubble pops and the fantasy comes to a close. The pages turn and the chapter closes. This is life.

Of all things I have; I can say that nothing I own is as valuable as my memories for these are irreplaceable and unable to be erased. I can say that my memories are no different from the finest silver, glittering like magic; and yet, I can say that without the right attention—even the brightest silver can tarnish.
(If we let it.)

I am here in the morning before the sunrise, looking up and hoping that today’s page will bring me somewhere closer to my dream. I have no more time for wasted moments or unresolved tensions. I have no time to argue or fight or feel “As if” and wish I’d turned left instead of right.
There is no more room for this—and so . . .
When there is no place left to turn and nowhere left to fall; there is only one’s ability to rebuild and recover. It is easy to think or fall back on troubled times and quit. And yet, there are times when quitting is not an option but, surrendering to the truth is the only option. This allows us a moment of clarity, which means parting ways or going in different directions (or change) is not quitting. Instead, this is only allowing for a new beginning. And that’s okay. It’s okay to change directions or switch our investments.

There is a time to forget and a time to remember. And me? I am glad for the times to remember. I am grateful to have seen what I have seen and felt what I have felt. And should the page turn, then I understand that the page has turned. This is life.
If there is a season for everything and a chance for every action—then so be it. I know there is something out there for me. I call this fate. Or better yet, I call this me. 
(One day at a time.)

I close now as the sun comes up. I am not mad. I am not crazy or waiting anymore. I am not hinged upon others, nor do I have to allow myself to be ruled by others. No one has the right to a station in my life unless I allow them. I have the chance to create and build or destroy (if I choose). 
I can start over again at any given moment.

We are all here on this thing that I call Project Earth. Maybe somewhere, there is a mad scientist in the middle of taking notes, as if we were tiny organisms in a lab. And maybe there is a reason for this. Maybe we respond to the light differently. Or maybe it’s the heat. Maybe it’s nothing more than the close of summer and the anticipation of our hemisphere’s distance from the sun. And maybe this is too cold to think about.
But don’t worry. We will always have our time by the sun again. Above all, we will always have our memories to keep us warm.

I promise. 

Perihelion and Aphelion: How Far Is the Sun from Earth? | The Old Farmer's  Almanac

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