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.

Beaming

The front door shuts,  
with a bit of a struggle, 
and as plastic wrapping chatters,  
I can hear that his hands are full. 

A sweet smile, 
with a gentle grasp, 
unveiling a secret surprise—
holding a tidy bouquet bursting with tiny white flowers. 

My eyes arch and dimples appear; 
I rush to embrace my husband—
throwing my arms around his shoulders. 

The occasion of introspection, 
translating emotion embodied through the pure white petals,
and the crisp chrysanthemum buds. 
They collect together in unison, 
bundled into the vibrant stalk with the outstretched leaves. 

I shed the plastic wrapping, 
and grab a mason jar from the cabinet,
filling it with a rush of clear water for the stems to soak within.

As I awaken this morning, 
I’m met with the delicate floral fragrance.  
I cherish these moments—
blooming and beaming,
and swell with admiration for my honey-sweet husband.

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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Paradise

Those that I have a personal relationship with or who have been following my life through Instagram or Twitter know that I recently traveled to Hawaii with my husband (Ricky) for a recess. I will forever be an open-book, and wanted to briefly share a few encounters of being away with an emphasis on returning home. 

It was an amazing happening to be able to visit a land in which I have never witnessed, alongside my love, growing our experiences together. We were able to escape the everyday duties, chores and obligations, with opportunity to explore multiple Hawaiian islands.

There is something special in surpassing the tourist regions—a rawness and authenticity that comes with each mile driven past the last blinking traffic light. These are the ventures that we sought out, even if it meant walking by foot or learning the island’s public bus system. We perched ourselves among the Eucalyptus trees, popping macadamia nuts purchased from a local marketplace store. We were able to plan our own adventures each morning.

We experienced a rush of water, from the word’s rainiest peak, down our backs as we drifted down its runoff. 

We went snorkeling by a crater, with water so clear the depth from the surface to ocean floor made me anxious. This forced me to command my body to be calm, which was an empowering revelation. We found the other’s hand beneath the water’s surface and pointed out exotic fish, laughing underwater and ultimately getting saltwater in our nose; these were salty-sweet moments. 

We climbed across a rocky edge of a cliff, grasping the volcanic rocks for balance as the ocean crashed behind us. Little crabs scurried around the soggy moss beneath our feet. This adrenaline-inducing climb brought us to an uninhabited piece of land that quietly overlooked the ocean, interrupted by the waves smacking against a small canyon. In this moment, I felt small amidst the massive mountains and deep blue waters. I felt close to my accomplice that endured this crazy exhibition with me. 

We flew to 13,000 feet within the air and jumped off the airplane to experience a true birds-eye view of Oahu—falling towards the mountains and ocean—catching a glimpse of the whales coming up for air, splashing with their babies submerged by the vast Pacific. We saw the island of Maui within the distance as we sank through clouds. The feeling I encountered is what I would imagine rainbows to feel. 

My mind experienced magic with each encounter. These are the lands, and the moments that I will daydream of. After about a week and a half, we were set to return home. 

Aside from the jet lag and 13 hour flight, I was looking forward to coming home. With past cruises that Ricky and I have taken, I had felt an ache with their end. It was a feeling of physical resistance in rebellion of going back to regular life, the mundane. 

As I sat within the turbulent air train, I analyzed what had inspired the switch in emotion. Apart from coming home to Nashville, rather than Ohio, I started to account the acknowledgment of awareness within my routine. I noticed that over time I have learned to scatter gratitude throughout each concurrence of living and task—creating a positive perception on every aspect within the everyday.

Where I reside now, is the home where I feel safe with space to create. This little loft has been allotted to art—here I write, paint, letter and upload tiny works like these to you, reader. Surrounded by the fragrance of sweet honey and citrus, I am able to expound upon these works while developing and translating them to multiple mediums. I share them with my handsome husband as he sits on the love-seat, leaning his weight onto its shoulder with interest.

This is home to a few of my closest friends, with the roads leading up to their homes memorized by habit. Their souls are lined with gold accents and natural light. With the aroma of freshly ground coffee and vegan-baked goods, we dig deep into conversation. It is where the bulb lights hang within the church I love, along with its community. 

Here, is where inspiration can be found through a blanket laid out within the backyard, carpeted by green grass with an open novel or notebook. The act of refreshing the mind with a quiet getaway within the forest, surrounded by Sugar Maple and Bur Oak trees.

This is where I have been challenged to grow further than what meets the eye. Truly recognizing the subconscious and altering its automatic release, confronting myself to recognize and live in-line with the letters my creator wrote. 

This is where my husband and I have drawn closer to one another—for the love we have has been cultivated through the the day-to-day. The struggles contain the conversations that evoke greater unity, and deeper understanding of ourselves and one another. The gentle pauses and soft smiles, inspired by nothing except love for the other.

I loved breathing in the Hawaiian air, but I love coming back. For where I live is my own, personal paradise.

Needle & Thread

The magnificent blanket, 
delicately draped upon the shoulders of the girl, 
with the long brown hair and broken insides. 

It is threaded with compassionate comfort, 
carefully woven together with relief.

As she sits within the silence, 
wrapping her in warmth,  
it allows her a moment to rest. 

Offering an opportunity of recovery, 
reformation and revival. 

I am not the blanket, but I was that girl once.  
And now I can only hope to be the spool, 
and the needle which threaded it together.

Contrast

As I stumbled home from work, I rolled out onto my front lawn. Still stiff from winter’s shock, I imprinted my elbows, back and bum into the faded yellow grass. Days like these are entirely overwhelming, to the point where I feel weak within my bones. 

These are days when it seems that the past haunts me—trailing every step, lingering like a dense fog. These demons from my youth lurk behind every corner: appearing within films that I watch, men’s deodorant, naïve humor. They are disguised within conversation, or arise within a sudden reaction. These recollections trigger intense emotions, attempting to lure me into an encompassing depth of the mind and body.

It is hard thing to have a vivid mind and memory, past circumstances rarely leave me. I often take intentional interruptions within my day, to live within the present—dismissing any thoughts or anxieties from the past. When I feel as though the sun is bursting within my soul, this is when the demons attempt to overtake me and make my bones feel hollow. I know that this is not a coincidence—but strategic. For they have witnessed my recovery, perspective switch and current fulfillment.

I refuse to let their whispers within the wind decompose the growth that has been cultivated. I close my eyes and feel the sun radiate through my skin. I was once overtaken by the depths, smothered and sick but now I push onward, and persevere within the present. My past only defines me today—as a conquerer. An incredible strength only acquired though my Creator.

I look onto the grey-blue sky, and sip in a deep breath. The inhale catches all active contemplations and swirling fragments of thought, and releases them through my exhale. I sit still with a cleansed mind and recount the new ideas that squeeze towards the forefront. Taking a mental inventory, I align my understandings with His promises; I am able to recognize the amount of incredible growth experienced within the prior years. My former struggles become more faint and faded with each passing day. 

So now, I trade these triggers for triumph. My past to present holds such great contrast, incredible growth and gratitude. I stand firm on the truth that is ingrained within me and push forward towards the exponentially flourished future.