A Musing Sunday…

16e4af00039011e3845f22000a9f3c3e_7There is something in the air this morning that must give me pause. A lingering scent, the quiet rumbling of a world not quite awake, the haze of a sunrise between swaying branches are all nudging me to smile to myself in grateful humility.

This tempest has brought many a torrential moment. Truths too dark to share, still. Though, they’re there, in the stories. Moments where I acted out of some horrific need to be noticed, to be the center of it all, regardless of what it required of me. I’ve gone to lengths to keep the light on me you’d never guess of your favorite villain.But isn’t it the best villains who make themselves appear the victim in order to become the victor? I digress…

It is said that we are born with a blank slate. I believe, instead, we are given canvases, and paint. Like many, I have a plethora of dark spots, moments of recklessness, selfishness , tests that were cheated on, papers written for money, wonderfully fabricated excuses, glorious rants, bitter responses, moments where i was the embodiment of gluttony, wrath, pride, and even envy. 

But through it all… I am learning, and growing, and changing. I am not saying that I am not longer that 5th grader who pretended to be sick to get out of class, or that 24 year old so full of anger and bitterness. I am still her, but now with lessons under her belt. With an understanding of how much I do not know, how far I still have to go, how unperfect I am. And what’s more, an understanding of how beautiful my own imperfections are, how magnificent my journey is. Every moment. The jazz on Burbon Street, the sidewalk chalk castle and pumpkin carriage illustration for a little girl, the realization of how right my mother can be, straddling a surfboard and taking in a sunset, dancing on my father’s toes, standing on a mountain with a family I spent half my life searching for, that inexplicable feeling i get when he looks at me and smiles, my mother and aunt’s tearful reunion after 25 plus years of separation, hugging my favorite professor before walking across the stage at graduation, the moments when Monic – my bulldog/pitbull mix – knew i needed a cuddle from him without a word spoken. It has been a beautiful journey for such an undeserving person and I am thankful I get the opportunity to be better to a world that has given me so much. 

Salaam Good People. e9fff720638811e3ae940e052fb5b447_8


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