song: van morrison – “sweet thing” [stream only] (buy)
‘no one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.’ c.s. lewis
time is very often suspended in my life. what i mean is that i very frequently am driving, or riding my bike, or whatever, and i experience this moment of complete and very ethereal weightlessness. it’s as if every second is being stretched out, as if everything has slowed down, and i am just alive.
it should be noted that this only happens when i’m by myself – a time in which we perceive, and act, and digest things differently. we allow ourselves a little more room for error, for exploration, for analysis. we allow possibility.
and while there is so much emphasis on being with and relying on people when one is younger, there comes this certain time in every person’s life when they realize that people come into their life, stay for a while – some longer than others – and then leave. there is this silent shift where we begin acknowledging that there is something amazing in everyone and it would be selfish for one to expect to experience that forever.
this lesson was first learned – and along with it a preference for cigarettes, a period of incessant bruce springsteen – a number of years ago: the first time i experienced stabbing heartbreak. it’s a lesson i’ve learned many times since, though not necessarily for the same reasons. and that’s one of the beautiful things about becoming older – you figure out, and become at peace with, and trust, and eventually smile at the person you are. the person you are without any one else. the person you are when you’re drinking coffee, reading the paper.
and there is something so beautiful about that.
photo by bari sowa