I fell in love with poetry for the very reason that most people despise it. It's filled with hidden meanings. When I was a teenager it gave me a place to explore the emotions and questions that seemed taboo in my conservative Christian home. That sentiment never left, and most of my poems even to this day are written about deeply personal experiences that I feel I can never share in the light of full disclosure.
My Instagram feed has turned into another experience like my poetry. I've been posting lately a lot of relatively cryptic messages comprised of photos I take and lines from various pieces of literature (including my own). If you knew the stories behind them you might cringe or hold a grudge or judge me, but that's okay. A lot of life is happening right now. I'm taking some huge risks. I'm making mistakes. I'm searching for answers.
I spent the day at the beach this weekend with a friend. We let the strong current carry us far from our camping spot, made music on the beach (literally), held a photography session, watched a wedding, stayed through one thunderstorm, and found ourselves frantically swimming toward the shore when the next round of lightning came too close for comfort.
As we gathered our belongings, the rain poured so heavily that it was impossible to see. Lightning flashed in the sand right before us. Walking in the sand is a slow process, and the various items we carried on our backs and in our arms made the process that much more challenging. It was scary, and I prayed the entire time that we would make it back to the car alive instead of scorched on the ground. Yet, even in the midst of the Mother Nature's drama, I knew that my only course of action was to take one step at a time. The only way to the end was to bow my head, wipe the rain drops from my eyes, and keep moving toward the target in the parking lot.
That's a little slice of my life right now. Earlier that day, as we made up silly songs about singing to the seagulls, I smiled at the bliss I felt, a bliss that lately has seemed like such a distant memory I thought I had made it up. I guess it's still there where it always has been and always will be.
My Instagram feed has turned into another experience like my poetry. I've been posting lately a lot of relatively cryptic messages comprised of photos I take and lines from various pieces of literature (including my own). If you knew the stories behind them you might cringe or hold a grudge or judge me, but that's okay. A lot of life is happening right now. I'm taking some huge risks. I'm making mistakes. I'm searching for answers.
I spent the day at the beach this weekend with a friend. We let the strong current carry us far from our camping spot, made music on the beach (literally), held a photography session, watched a wedding, stayed through one thunderstorm, and found ourselves frantically swimming toward the shore when the next round of lightning came too close for comfort.
As we gathered our belongings, the rain poured so heavily that it was impossible to see. Lightning flashed in the sand right before us. Walking in the sand is a slow process, and the various items we carried on our backs and in our arms made the process that much more challenging. It was scary, and I prayed the entire time that we would make it back to the car alive instead of scorched on the ground. Yet, even in the midst of the Mother Nature's drama, I knew that my only course of action was to take one step at a time. The only way to the end was to bow my head, wipe the rain drops from my eyes, and keep moving toward the target in the parking lot.
That's a little slice of my life right now. Earlier that day, as we made up silly songs about singing to the seagulls, I smiled at the bliss I felt, a bliss that lately has seemed like such a distant memory I thought I had made it up. I guess it's still there where it always has been and always will be.
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