Airplane

August 27, 2017

I went to Atlanta a few weeks ago, for a business trip. We boarded onto a tiny eight-passenger plane, an intimate aircraft where pilots told us to tap their shoulder if we needed anything and where strangers conversed with others. For our flight total duration, we trailed along the sunset–shifting from Nashville to Atlanta. It was magic. I scribbled a short poetic note on the flight, and I wanted to share it with you. 

Airplane 

Ears popping, my eyes scanning the pesticide track patters within the circle and square lots below. My eyes meet the river lines—their origins and their outpour. The clouds, watching the drops percolate through the weightiness of the world, creating something beautiful for bystanders below. 

I’m thankful for the view, snapping a few photos every moment or so, naming the thanks even in the small things: this book on my lap, the forty-thousand foot view, the gentle drops of the aircraft, the chatter of one stranger helping another. 

To the right are a plethora of beautiful billows, foamy and frothy. To the left are the cotton ball clouds lay beneath the aircraft, wind-raked and lightly packed, transparently texturing the sky. I hold on to this moment.

We drift along the sunset. In the distance, I see a series of clouds that remind me of those shared in view with my husband on our honeymoon cruise. I don’t wish to go back, though. Eyes hang in the thick of the fog, unmarred by nostalgia’s notorious spill. Every while further from the last provokes deeper understanding, prolongated past with each mile leveling a closer parallel to the sun’s stage.

 A deeper, richer color saturates our love—kindred to the day’s finale.

Rebirth

For the past month and a half, I’ve taken a few steps back. I’ve been able to recollect myself and take a long, deep, cleansing breath. I’ve privately penned notes for myself as well as letters for my forthcoming poetry collection—its unfolding has held a mirror to my mind. I thank you, reader, for your patience and support during my absence.

I underwent some great alterations within my tangible life, with a sweeping growth within my mental state. I initially thought that by taking a pause from distractions, creativity would pour from my fingers. This happened, in a way. 

For the past five years, I’ve placed a careful emphasis on perspective growth. I’m constantly working on stretching the way that I perceive experiences, while kneading out negativity. These past couple of months supplied great opposition, yielding accelerated growth within my understanding.

There were nights that came quickly, leaving me depleted from the day’s thoughts—heat radiating towards my eyelids, sinking slowly. When my mind is sore and my perspective feels bleak, I am susceptible to slipping back into an inverted state. With racing thoughts swirling throughout my head and tears collecting at my jawline, I recognized that my mind would remain weak if I recluse. For I am undergoing deep rooted growth. My mind has been emotionally training—exhausted and distressed—but building up and strengthening towards a strong and brilliant future. The process can be tedious and taxing, but the outcome will be filled with tenacious endurance—but only if I push through my gasping lungs and my burning legs. 

These occurrences within this breathing space forced me to stretch out and hold onto my Creator, expanding within His peace. He has uncovered answers and holistic understanding—a quiet, yet boundless forest. The forest floor is densely packed with ferns and thick tree trunks of truth. Mushrooms and leaves from the magnolia tree are scattered, leading up to where the river runs by, seeping hope. The gentle wind invigorates freedom, as I’m amidst the comfort of the all-encompassing sun. He is the oasis for my brittle bones and weary mind. 

This sanctuary and its teachings have been translated into little notes written while I’m at my wooden desk at work, along with feverishly written pages stuffed within my leather-bound journal. By just taking a breath and recognizing the moment at hand, all distractions dissipate and my soul is calm. This is where my strength is regained, since I was never the source of my own strength. 

Gratitude, tranquility and eternity have been poised towards the top of my mind and have been spilled into each piece I construct. These past two months, I was able to handwrite, lick and send out some letters across the county—connecting through an old-fashioned and intentional way. I even received a few letters back, and have sealed and shipped my reply. My husband and I adopted a little rescue pup, who has showered me with such love; I’m eager to share him with you. Greatest of all, I’ve been able to thank, praise, and expound in joy to the only one who matters. 

I’ve been rebirthed, reborn, saved and strengthened; this epitome of perspective has been placed as paramount, and my gratitude never runs out. I am incredibly honored, to have you here, and to be able to share these pieces of my heart with you. 

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Early Hours

Walking amidst the air held within the early hours, 
among the premature sunlight rising into the day’s fruition. 
This early morning wind reminds me of my youth—
walking upon red-gray gravel, 
towards the bright yellow bus, 
windows smudged with fingerprints and nose prints, 
with children pressing their cheeks agains the cool glass. 

The birds are chorusing today—
their song reminds me of the one once sung within the backyard of my parent’s home, 
where my brother and I would settle our backs on the trampoline, 
out of breath from trying to out-jump the other;
the same song sung when we’d lay opposites on the hammock, 
swung between two fully-matured aspens—
chatting about our future lives with sore-stomach laughter,  
as the warm wind enlivened us, 
the shade cooled us. 

These particular rays within the early hours are the same that shone through the french-door windows, 
onto me and my sister, within our shared bedroom—
with our silly dance routines
and polly-pocket ventures. 

The sky is the same shade of blue—
the one where my mother would extend her neck, 
and throw her head back, 
marveling on the way the clouds drifted upon their own, vast blue ocean. 

But the sun shines today, also. 
Within these hours, the clouds skirt across the sky, 
and move with this fresh, crisp air that I steal into my lungs. 
These trees with the fluttering leaves, this morning, 
reminds me of today, 
and will remind me of tomorrow, too.

Refresh

Life is infinite, but also fleeting. Each moment passes right before our eyes and through our fingers. I find that bits of my time is spent within an alternate period. My mind wanders into the forest of the past, dwelling within my prior maturity, cluttering the present like moths to a lamp. Other pieces are wasted by preparing for the distant future—but the future can only be comprised through this current moment. No matter how little time I spend glancing back or focused forward, if it distracts from the present, I want to cleanse it from my thoughts. 

I place precedence on the alignment of priorities and ambitions that have stirred up deep within my soul—to write, to paint, to letter, to create tangible relationships with others. I have too many paint tubes that have not yet been squeezed flat, watercolors that have not yet been diluted. I have lined journals craving to hold the stories that have been brewed within my mind and thoughts and ideas which are awaiting to be poured to paper. 

To correspond with this shift, I’ll be taking a brief recess from social media. I love to share moments within the tiny, little squares—or through short text snippets—holding onto memories which prompt gratitude. But as I take a retreat from my glowing-blue screen, I have confidence that through unplugging, a spark will burst full of creativity towards my current endeavors. Instead of spending the in-between minutes scrolling through a never-ending relay of photos, I’ll be dreaming and sketching the southern magnolia trees.

For this life is also infinite, in the incredible ways and occurrences in which we have the opportunity to live it out. This thought has my mind swelling of intention—a word and practice increasingly familiar to my pen, readers and attention. It has also been sweeping into my encounters with others, another deliberate proceeding which is becoming more fluid. Through genuine in-person interactions, a raw and organic relationship unfolds. This is probably one of the greatest aspects of human life—human interaction. I’ll be forever learning to slow down, and endlessly working to encourage each individual I come across. Within this alignment, others are my pinnacle within the present. 

I also have a consistent pine for creating and sharing, with a priority of devoting diligence in sharing these pieces through my blog. I’ll have more hours to dedicate towards artfully crafting my book—which while writing, inspired this act to refresh and reset my arrangement of ambitions. For within this revival, I found that nothing is more important than this hour, and the way in which I occupy it. 

Thank you for your boundless support, reader and friend. I am full of  anticipation within these current moments and to share the present time with you. 

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