# 31 || "Grace is wild. Grace unsettles everything. Grace overflows the banks. Grace messes up your hair. Grace is not tame."

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The last few days were an unconsciously craved pause in time, necessary before I will be ready to hit play once again. A late night flight, a dream - just one, or maybe two - and here I am, back in the game that is reality. Every take-off and landing, I forget how I become familiar when my environment is un(familiar). In places where the streets and I are unacquainted and there are new scents and sights and seas to meet and remember - there I am, not the fille I always wanted to be, but rather the girl I am supposed to.

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Subtract monotony and repetition and comfort zones and you have yourself its most organic form. You rise to the occasion, to the sky, to the fucking stars and you see, in the sea, who you really are. Last night, in the sky, I was the closest to a full moon I'll ever be, however many hundred metres high in the sky. Salut lune, bisous soleil. The calm transtion from dusk to darkness was more than enough for me to retrive my pencil and paper from my golden satchel to write more aout love and luck and the loss accompanies them.

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The words I write here are letters to myself, to vanquish the negative-a-tea. It feels now that the hindrance remains in a shaky sense of convition towards absolutely everything, and Nowhere is as attractive as Anywhere. Does this make any sense?

Knowing only effort lies in between where I am and where I want to be -- it kills me slow and fast. For you cannot measure perserverence, nor can you script a recipe for content. The question remains forever - am I trying hard enough? I am trying too hard? Is there such a thing? Is this the rock-bottom of my rabbit hole or could I fall even further before I am to ricochet of the earth towards the sky?

I grip the sides of this infinite-seeming cavity, and realise it takes strength to maintain my position if I don't want to tumble further down. So, if it takes only a little more spirit to climb higher and higher - what am I doing staying stagnant, really? All things are brought into being and sustained by the compassionate, so go on and attain the bliss of knowing and experience. It's a privilege I promise.

 

Don't be afraid to believe in all moments - yesterday, today and tomorrow.

xo

# 30 || let me (wander)lust tonight

i. There is this guilt from inactions over actions, for not offering / trying / saying / being more. My conscience fuels the infinite thoughts that process and fight and weave forever until I fall into a restless sleep that regenerates little more than my physical self, but the mental facet of myself seems to be nowhere near the middle of an endless sprint. I want enough time to show my fellow citizens of humanity that I care. I want to redeem myself for the arrows I spit sometimes, because I get scared of silence and the overstimulation that it elicits.

Though, I suppose time is time because of mechanics and physics and gravity and memory - though I'd like to believe the ticking and tocking is nothing more than a figment of my imagination. As a world, we relate to songs and stories and what is showing in the cinema - but are blinded to its occurence in our reality. It's happening throughout, the anguish and anxiety, the misunderstanding, the joy, the magic - but where is the empathy? At the very least, we should and could respect each other a little more.

It's difficult, I know, with all the emotion that fills us up. There is little room for patience, especially if it's free-of-charge. Dear Girl, I urge you to be kind and the days will follow suit. Can you see? Infinity can be measured. It's the light at the end of the tunnel or the golden lining of a cloud. Close your eyes and tell me what colours you see. Maybe I am still figuring out what to do when it's matter over mind and my head is crushing my heart. Faith seems to be a test, but I won't and don't want to lose.

ii. “Does it break my heart, of course, every moment of every day, into more pieces than my heart was made of, I never thought of myself as quiet, much less silent, I never thought about things at all, everything changed, the distance that wedged itself between me and my happiness wasn't the world, it wasn't the bombs and burning buildings, it was me, my thinking, the cancer of never letting go, is ignorance bliss, I don't know, but it's so painful to think, and tell me, what did thinking ever do for me, to what great place did thinking ever bring me? I think and think and think, I've thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.”

--- Jonathan Safran Foer

iii. ( Lately I feel like we're all en route to Something and Somewhere magic, and you must (make)believe it or it won't come true. Maybe you're the luckiest girl in the world and you didn't even know it. Today I am thankful for the incredibly inspiring people that I am lucky to know and the ability to do and dream and develop. May today's gratitude only continue to bloom and remind me that the adventures are only just beginning. )   

xo

# 29 || { it's just a dream, you won't get lost }

 The reassuring words wobble and waver, it seems the enthusiastic element of my vocabulary is drying up like a river in December.  I feel like the very core of who I am and what I believe in is so fragile right now that if you so much as look at me, I may shatter into a million little pieces. What more are we, than fractions of an extraordinary whole? There come days like these where I can't figure out if the weighty potential of this era is curing or crushing me. What dictates when it's the right moment to be content and when you can be curious? Indeed, there is a here in Anywhere, but is home where my heart is or is my heart at home? I blame this eternal discontent on a lack of gratitude for what I have, but what if the crime is in those waves of unseized opportunities and choices you forgot you made? You say there is no wrong answer but the thought of an Otherworld forever triggers my curiosity and I keep thinking that wretched, "But what if?"

This was my second summertime and I could chase the sun forever if wintertime wasn't so white and whimsical. It's nice to know the option is always there, because it's all a choice. Zoom out and there I am, on the ground because I tripped or someone pushed me down -- what does it matter, even? The bloody saltwater is a detail, for whatever it's worth. But wait, watch me stand up and try again. That sight would make anybody smile, whether it's sinister or satisfying.

And I think about finding those 15 seconds of courage, just so I can write about it later. So this is it, you ache but it feels good to stand up and dust yourself off with determination, however uncertain it all feels. Deep breath, heads down, thumbs up. It's a game you can't lose until you start saying "Why" without the "not". Go on, dream deeper than you ever dared.

(to be continued),

xo