As I sit here creeping on my good friend, Zackary’s Facebook page--one that I rely on for the assortment of great music I can plague my ears with — I am suddenly overcome with nostalgia, true happiness, contentment. Cross-legged on this gray, yet comfortable couch, I find myself pleased with the day. I lived by my new mantra—rejoice in every moment. Try to see the little things about life that are compelling and overwhelmingly beautiful, those specks of beauty, signs of life, if you will. We often overlook them because we are too consumed, too busy.
Helll, maybe I am reflecting so intently on the day, on my life, on my whatever, because I’m not as busy as some of you. I don’t have as many commitments to attend to. Does that make me lazy? Does that mean I have it easy? Well, no. It doesn’t mean that at all. And I’m thankful for that. Truthfully, it just happened to be my day off.
I try my damnnist to keep myself busy on my days off. I read, write, search for new music, bartend at neigborhood galleries for my neighborhood parties, clean yoga studios, practice yoga, consume way too much coffee, ride my bike, etc, etc. To me, that’s a damn good busy day.
It’s not just a good day because I had my caffeine and plenty of time to do everything mentioned above, in addition to finishing tasks for my internship. It was mostly a feel-good day because when it was all said and done, I just felt exceptional.
Why exceptional? Let me explain.
I bartended at an art gallery owned by one of the most interesting men I have the pleasure of knowing—William Havu. It was my neighborhood, the Golden Triangle’s, monthly neighborhood gathering. Wine, beer, cheese, and some of the best desserts I’ve had in a while, accompanied good company and compelling art. One piece was even named “For Megan”, an oil painting on pichort (sp? I don’t know, I left the paper now and will edit this later).
It was great to finally chat with my neighbors who I see almost every morning at Rooster & Moon. It’s almost always the case that I’m too busy to converse with them other than to ask them for their drink order. After finally having those long-awaited conversation, I left with a newly-found sense of community. The simplicity of having those conversation is what I find strange. It’s just that simple—being curious enough to ask those question that lead to a genuine conversation.
The ah-ha! moment that yep, the journalist in this gal still lives. The fire still burns. The search for a story is continuous. It made me feel certain.
Those conversations made more certain about the road I’m currently on—freelancing, writing, interning, marketing, etc. I felt like I could write a story on every person I met tonight. (Typical journalistic mindset ;)). It might seem silly to some of you, but to me, it’s the beauty in the art I’m so fond of. Those genuine conversations, almost every single time, lead to the best quotes, a new angle, or underlying story.
There’s more. There is almost always more.
After helping Bill clean the remnants left behind, I began the short, literally two block, journey home. As soon as I stepped outside, I was overwhelmed by my emotions. It was strange—haven’t felt that way in a while. No, it wasn’t the caffeine or the sugar high. It was revisiting that little stretch of the neighborhood, the part that even in the dim glow of street lights and stars above, is still breath taking. A sense of security. A sense of belonging.
Furthermore, as I turned onto my street, the city skyline became remarkably clear. Each building was so crisp, glowing among the night mist. And then, the smell. That sweet, crispy odor of Fall. Not just Fall, but snow. A deep inhale of the autumnal bliss stopped me in my tracks. I smiled and locked my eyes to my West. To the right, the Full Moon. To my Northwest, a stop sign that read ‘Stop—collaborate and listen.’
So many signs. An abundance of crystal clear signs of life. The transparent signals telling me to keep going, keep enjoying the ride, keep doing what I’m doing, keep dreaming, keep soaring past false limitations.
Those little signs help remind us that life is beautiful. In my case, it helped me realize that I’m headed in the right direction, even though I didn’t think so. Even when you can’t see them, all you have to do is stop and look around.