Placing Happy

I feel inclined to place ten pieces of happiness out for inspection and to be followed with a few hallelujah's.

1. Today was one of those sublime mornings where all my good intentions to complete school work wafted away with each singing breeze and instead I sat cross-legged on my floor, lost in a laughing contest and conversation with an old friend over the telephone.

2. Whilst holding a class discussion in History today I got to discover my new classmates views of history and I was the one to prompt it out from them. I got a few funny looks but one girl gave me a reassuring foot pat and a "good job" and that was all I needed frankly. And Daniel went before me and covered the entire chapter, that cleared up a lot of stress. Anthropology majors are good people.

3. John, Paul, George & Ringo. They feature more in the daily than one would expect. I'll always love that Gringo Ringo.

4. Acknowledging how beautiful pregnant women are.

5. I was informed that there are 59 days until Friday the 13th. I get to return to my Valley on that day, and though that's not a piece of paradise like Hawaii there is no denying the adoration one has for home. Nothing fits quite the same as the place where your feet trod with such surety. Home is where I am with you? Utah, you have become a home.

6. Savages. Woman. Finding those whom you can raise your voice considerably with are a real gift actually.

7. The mountains that lace upwards behind campus. I cannot stop expecting to see a giant rear back it's excellent head with craggy eyebrows and tiny eyes from those hills. They are a fairy tale. It's everytime I begin to look at them my mind rushes to Spiderwick, Narnia, Atlantis and Land before Time all at once, there is to much childlike imagination running through the trees up there. It's just as grand when you enter in as well, give or take a few mosquitoes of course!

8. That cubism exists, that grizzly bears do not live out in Hawaii, that you can reserve silence and deserve it as well, that scripture power never ceases giving and that that imagination plays such a key role in the past. Say goodnight to the dwarfs of dreams.

9. I came into my dorm this morning after rushing out into the morning to Intercultural Communications with Pajama's strewn about my room, my room was unruly. And when I returned it had all been set into place again, what a sweet mercy, I felt tears prick in my eyes because I needed a little push and help and I didn't even know it. Still smiling to myself.

10. Music, and the fact that The Head and the Heart now have a new album out. Shake. Be still my soul, I have listened to it over and over. And I found Ben Howard, take a gander and listen to Keep Your Head UP. I'll keep this kid close.

urge

I have a whole garden full of urges to be able to write something stirring. Oh man, words must be the most ridiculous medium that there is. They, simply put, will not listen. Not matter how you push or prod, demand and require, they will not just yield to you something akin to Donne or Hemingway. I'll forgive them on a later date and for now just thank the heavens for language. I'll walk their paths, the paths of words. See where they connect and intermingle with one another. After all I was searching for was me.

I.

I kept asking myself why I needed to stand so rigidly. Why were my ankles keeping each other company and why were my heels fit so firmly to the floor.

Unresisting I felt all of it enter. The universe rang about in the echoes of the shower space. Calling to corners and to the passerby's. Asking the whole entire time the same question, be change? I needed to change. The breath of angels need to change. And so do I.

Because who sees who you truly are? You could ask the members of late night bathroom trips, or friends that belong only in your well-lit kitchen. You could look to past love's, future love's, even those who you can only pretend you got to love. (They always seem to be the most heart-felt ones about it all) You could peer into the carpet bag of magic tricks of your grandfathers, or shake out the dust in your aunt's music books. Scamper about searching for linen skirt of your mom's because it knew her so well, so perhaps it could accommodate you similarly? Continue looking, ask all of your acquaintances and keep checking with your friends. Who sees who you truly are? Can you even see you? There are layers of old coats and marbles on a few, some are dressed up in rag-time tunes. There are a few who can truly see you, who you truly show you. Family is a funny place to start. Greeting with plum hands and heavy scarves. But the path torn with the hopeful awaits hope. Peace peeks behind curtains. Keep a sharp eye out for the words you most need to circle over and over until they remain stalwart and alone on the page. Keep a kind eye out for those souls who beat like yours. Keep a hand out for the breath of angels. Swim in the ocean with the salt and heat all in your head and beneath your feet keep corals colleagues dart and spin away.

 

I stood even straighter, an Alice potion effect took place, I think I grew. My spine pulled towards the ceiling and I could feel the dust settle on the slick floor. And then I stilled, everything stilled, and a lightness expanded in my head. The same when alone in the ocean for the first time. I breathed a fresh new breath and shook off my old bones and stepped into my cadmium towel.