I had a random thought this morning about mail delivery and what it must be like to deliver mail to a neighborhood for months to years at a time. Undoubtedly, a story for each house might be synthesized in one’s head. From bills, to magazines, to personal memos and postcards. What story would one surmise if they saw the mail that I received? Or the thoughts that enter my head and exit my mouth? I think we are all like mailboxes in that we receive information most days, some expected, some unexpected. Sometimes it doesn’t even belong to us, wrong address. And other days we wish it didn’t belong to us, but it does.
How many times have you waited for good news? How many times have you eagerly torn open a letter or package with high expectations? How many times were those expectations met? How many times were they not? How many times were your letters destroyed by inclement weather? As they say, don’t shoot the messenger.
I guess what all this amounts to is that I hope that your story ends up with a happy ending. I hope that the information you receive will be positive more times than not. I also say a little prayer for the postal worker tasked with delivering your mail to you, that they might be inspired by the way your story unfolds. That all of our expectant desires are fulfilled in due time.
So I am sitting outside in front of a fountain, contemplating how quickly circumstances change in life. Just when you get used to what you consider “normal” that rug is swept from under your feet. You are instantly reminded that the only thing constant in life is change. Some change is for the better. It helps us evolve as human beings. It’s just insane at times because we work so hard to get to “that place” and ultimately realize that life has several checkpoints and not necessarily one destination. I find solace in knowing that whatever lesson is meant to be learned can be open to interpretation. The goal is to become more open-minded, and accept the fact that perfection is not tangible. Trying to achieve it can be a roller coaster. But the sooner you give yourself a bit of grace, the better.
April 25, 2021
Sitting in the park, wondering how long this wooden bench has been here. I feel like it’s been here since the 1800s. The lamp posts also look ancient. I can imagine a young girl escaping to meet her secret lover in this park at dusk. Perhaps mimes or painters once filled this space in an effort to entertain the masses. I’m thinking about how effort, hard work, and dedication guarantee nothing, even if done correctly. But what you do have to be grateful for, regardless of the circumstances, is the opportunity to try and sometimes get what you want. Because we never get everything we want in life.
I think as long as you have a destination, there is always a reason to keep going. And at the end of the day, we all have a God-given purpose to fulfill, as long as He wills it.
There is a mixture of aromas ranging from someone’s pasta lunch to the cool spring breeze enriched with the scent of tree bark. The sun is piercing through the canopy of leaves above me. In my mind, I am creating stories for the passers by.
I would get up and start walking again, but then I’m reminded of how hard it was for me to get this bench.
I’m listening to a pre-curated Spotify playlist that fits my mood at the moment.
As I write this, I am drinking a homemade green smoothie and listening to a new school neo soul playlist I made on Spotify. My, what a whirlwind the past few months have been. And April is closing out. I wanted to write this post about being at peace with yourself. It is truly the only way you can be at peace with anyone else or anything else in life.
Not only should you learn to be at peace with yourself, but you should also learn to be at peace with what brings others peace. Once we start trying to change that or judge that, we garner resentment over something we cannot control.
Learn to enjoy taking in the air around you, the sun above you, the grass below you. If you live in the city, appreciate the hustle and bustle. If you live in the country, admire the open space around you. Every day you get the privilege to see it, so take it all in gratefully.
Also, listen to music! I am a huge music buff. I get caught in these phases of what I call “genre seasons” in which I won’t play anything but the genre I am feeling at the moment. Sometimes it’s Vivaldi, sometimes Lion Babe, sometimes Mr. Eazi, or Pat Benatar! Every morning I start off with Gospel or Contemporary Christian. I mean it’s just nice to carry a song in your heart and soul for the day. It gives you hope and joy.
Just some random musings. I do hope you enjoyed and I look forward to writing more content soon!
Today I took a walk at a local park by my apartment complex. I had a lot on my mind, as I always do. Just random thoughts that needed solitude to sort out. This park has a lake with what seems like hundreds of ducks and storks. It gets to be so excessive that I actually have to park at a nearby church and walk over just to avoid being blocked in by the ducks (I learned my lesson after the first visit).
As I passed by the ducks, listening to Craig David’s latest album just because, a weird thought crossed my mind (and please don’t judge)-What do those ducks see when they look at me? What is their perception of space and time? In school we were always taught that the animals in nature acted according to the seasons. They would migrate to the south on the verge of winter. They would store their provisions in anticipation of the coming months of brutal cold. But what really happens in that community of life which we typically pay no mind to? Do they quarrel? Do they have dreams and aspirations of leaving home? Or are their actions just mechanic and synchronized with nature?
So I stopped and took some photos of them, as discretely as I could. And as I walked my path, I felt as though we (myself and the ducks) had some sort of agreement. I would stay out of their way, and they would stay out of mine. And we would exist in our respective microcosms of the world.
After thinking all too profoundly about this matter, I just ended up people-watching. Several children and their parents were present, the former wrapped up in some playground game that adults would not understand, the latter wrapped up in some conversation that children would not understand. And then there was me, just walking, with a purpose undefined, but a purpose nonetheless.