the wanderings of a restless soul

1 Comment

Looking Out at The Rain in Another Life

Just as the rain lulled me to sleep, it woke me with sudden sounds of distant thunder. I opened my eyes to a faint darkness, and allowed myself to sink within its loud silence. I kept my body a senseless corpus, and made my eyes that moment’s purveyor of life and thought. What thoughts I had about mundane living! Materialistic ventures of a world I didn’t want to belong to any more than I wanted to escape from. Money—I needed some. I have some travels to pursue, I have some bills to satisfy, and I need money. I thought of going to the casino as a quick-fix until my next pay check. It couldn’t hurt to go eventually; after all, it paid my undergrad text books once upon a time. But even the drive there meant money, $4.09 per gallon type of money—No ma’m!

Then something funny happened as my mind stretched these trivial thoughts through and through to no significant avail. I saw the furniture in my living room begin to vanish (all but the couch that I still lay senseless in)—the decorative coffee table within my view, the cheap multicolored striped rug under it, the television, the chairs, my mom’s life-sized porcelain baby Jesus along with its wooden cradle, even my mom’s informative voice on the phone was dulled into nothingness. Only my self, my body, the couch, and the cascading rain existed in time.

Before I saw her, there came another sinking feeling. Not as if I was falling, but as if I was slowly being lowered into a crevice. It was her eyes that appeared in my mental first. They were dark and glaring; she was peering out, seeing the same rain as I, in deep contemplation as I, but at peace. It was a revelation to her, the rain. It filled her with intrigue; it was like a god to her, a mystical promise that she could not decipher, but that her heart understood. She had no troubles, this dark-eyed girl from the beginnings of time, when green was the only landscape, blue the only seascape, and brown the only ground to walk on—true purity.

Sheltered from the rain, in her indigenous abode, she felt the earth—damp, energetic, meaningful. She shared a connection to it all, this wet earth, this rain, this wind, this thundering sound, “Yes! I have a place,” she thought in a language and a mind that existed before material gain. And with that thought, I was back. I was back to furniture, comfort, noise, money—worries. I was back to pathetically write about what I can only pretend to have been a flashback from a past life. Back to posting on a blog what was an unreal, yet intriguing moment that lasted seconds too short. To remind myself, over and over and over again, that my life is trivial, and that even with the divine phenomenon of rain indulging all my senses, and comatose-ing my every cell, my mundane mind immediately thought about needing money. Meanwhile, in the history of my spiritual heart there lived a dark-eyed girl who belonged to the spirit of the earth, who had a place, who had a connection, and who thought of peace whenever she looked out at the rain.

Googled Image



Mid 20’s Crisis

We all know that men in their 40’s and 50’s (some at 60?) typically go through the infamous “mid life crisis.” During these tumultuous years, said men may buy expensive cars or expensive 20 year olds. I’d typically roll my eyes at the thought of such sad fellows, but I’m finding myself close to a life crisis—minus the buying of expensive things or 20 year olds.

In this technology based lifestyle, life happens faster than when I graduated in 2003. Young adults are communicating faster, wanting money faster, and actually getting that money faster. Not too long ago (maybe a while ago), The View had a segment on young millionaires, young ass entrepreneurs making awesome crap, selling it online, and already having acquired enough money to pay for 10 years of college, which they technically won’t need (college that is) because now a days, college degrees are for acquiring a job that will pay you well, versus acquiring knowledge that you actually enjoy (I have a Masters Degree in English Lit, maybe I’m being biased), and they already have a job that pays them well (they are self-employed for the love of Thor!). The point being, that for the first time in a while I actually feel extremely unaccomplished. Sure, some of my friends will protest to such a ridiculous claim made by someone quite accomplished in particular areas of her life, but I’m selfish and I want more. And the truth is I have bigger goals for myself. I want a PhD, I want to travel, I want to write a novel, I want to become an amazing published artsy photographer that people get inspired by, I want to be on Oprah talking about my most recent book, I want to be on The Colbert Report talking about my other most recent book, I want romance, I want a deep spiritual transcending moment, I want to learn martial arts, I want to kick somebody’s ass (in self defense) using my martial arts techniques, I want to save a life (maybe just through one of my books), I want to learn how to play the guitar, I want to learn how to carry a tune…… aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh—my fingers hurt and I’m metaphorically out of breath, and there is still so much more.

Some of the above I may have already done/experienced like having romance, having transcendental moments, and I did earn a green belt in karate (hey it’s something), but my point is that I want it all. I really DO want the world to be mine without getting high on my own supply (“Scarface” quote, awesome movie—must see). But presently I teach at a public high school, and while some moments are great and others completely apocalyptically hellish, it’s not for me. I really do care about educating our youth, and I’m glad I’ve left my mark in doing so, but how can I save some of these kids when I clearly want to save myself from letting life pass me by without feeling like I haven’t crammed everything I possibly could into (crossing fingers) approximately 99 years of life (knocking on wood, seriously my desk is made of wood)?

I’m 25 years old, and I’m going to be 26 in June (best date ever, stay tuned for a birthday entry). I know I’m blessed because I definitely just came back from a trip to Paris, WHICH WAS AMAZING… but only reminded me of how much the world has to offer, and while I do live in one of the best places on earth (the Caribbean somewhere awesome) I can’t help but feel like I’m missing out—hence my recent feelings of anxiety and mid 20’s crisis.

Cleary doing stuff (and I know from 25 years of pretty legit experience) is only a matter of getting up and doing it. And I’ll admit, I have procrastinating tendencies, but aside from that what can a girl do to start planning the beginning of the rest of her life? I just realized that I sound like I’m a bride-to-be having anxieties of being “tied-down” until she decides to file for a divorce… and it’s kind of crazy to think that perhaps I live in fear of realizing my dreams because then I might have to marry them, because maybe I don’t want to be fully committed to one dream, and because it’s so much easier to dream about dreaming instead of actually mustering up the courage to take that giant leap of faith and do something other than think. OR MAYBE, I’m actually a coward who is too scared of going after something she might fail at, and then have to carry the shame for the rest of her complicated, over-analytical life (Anyone have a scarlet F? I’ll wear it if you send it to me. See address below). I guess if I keep with the whole bride-to-be metaphor, what this lil’ lady (I’m 5”0, so literally “lil”) has to do is follow the dream that has been most faithful to her throughout the years, tie the knot, and hope that that dream doesn’t cheat on her with another avid dreamer or file for divorce under “did not perform marital duties” (I don’t think you can file under that).