When people think of living, sometimes there is only a superficial definition that comes to mind, but to live goes way deeper than simply breathing. It’s the idea of pausing and listening to every breath – deep – deepening the gust of wind that is taken in and out of your body. And in those pauses, being only grateful. When you’ve fully grasped that concept, thats when life begins. Thats when there’s life. That’s when you’re living. Its not wanting the moment to be different. Its basking in the full, ever present, beaming aspect of now. And you see. It shows up. It’s noticeable. It bleeds out your skin. Living. Everybody doesn’t take part in living.
Sheesh… talk about hitting it right on the nose. One thing I’ve learned about life is it has to be lived. If you’re graced with another breath you must, you have to, it demands you, to breathe it. Sometimes in the middle of my day I can feel an overwhelming sense of frustration. I have learned to stay quiet, to be careful not to speak to soon; to never say something I’d regret. I sometimes take a minute, read, pray, write a little, or eat lol. I’ve googled it and apparently it can be a side effect to my apparent “lupus,” diagnosis. As casually as I slipped that in is how casually it slipped into my life. In the midst of my health complications, living is still top on the to-do list. I. Must. Breathe. I often times get frustrated if I feel like I’m not doing enough with that breath or somehow I could’ve taken that breath differently or faster lol it’s easy to be hard on myself…to look at now and feel like I should be further along, but like tonight, while surfing on pinterest; I get my reminder… that it’s ok to need to take one day at a time… put one foot in front the other; because that’s life; that’s living.
Writing is something that comes easy for me…. pressing “Publish,” on the other hand, is what is slightly difficult. I will be delving into the topic of living.
31 days of living.
I’ve learned to enjoy living.
Maybe you will too… I’m assuming these posts wont be what you assume. I’m thinking sad, frustrated, happy, silly, crazy, questionable, and full of more commas because that’s what living is. A bunch of commas that make up life.
-Oct 1st… really Sept 30th in my head because I haven’t been to sleep. Night 😉
I’m a blog post hoarder. I write these- beautiful, meaningful, full of life; witt and expression posts and then just keep them. I allow myself to convince myself that, they aren’t good enough, not funny enough, too corny and even too long to post. I say, “Lundon, nobody is going to read it,” and “only you are going to think that was funny; until I decide, “well, I’ll post it at another time.” I was up to about 26 posts or “not posted blogs,” and my drafts crashed. for all you people out there who have lost a document that didn’t save, pasted something and realized you never copied it or lost anything you understood how slightly traumatized I was. All of my post that I swore weren’t good enough were completely gone. Gone. Then, all of a sudden I’m wishing I posted them…realizing that I loved every word more than I wanted to admit and dissapointed that I talked myself into losing them anyway.
This is kind of like life.
Moments happen, seconds go by, situations take place, and days pass that you live and for some reason you convince yourself that it wasn’t good enough, wasn’t long enough, wasn’t warm enough, you didn’t have the time enough, the finances enough, the strength enough, the love enough, the confidence enough, enough power, will, support, energy…
And then when you look up and it’s over, or it has passed, or they grew up, you realize that instead of enjoying every minute for what it was or loving what has come from what you did; you lived life hoarding what could be memories… moments that add nutrients to your blog of life.
No matter who approves, likes it, says thank you, notices, thinks it’s funny, polite, politically correct, too cheap, tacky, not cute, un-called for, LIVE. Live in the freedom God gives. Enjoy it. Whatever you’re hoarding, waiting for the right time, the right moment; Do it. Do it now. Post it…. before you look up and it’s gone.
Don’t hoard life’s memories. Make them.
Different….Different is the first word that comes to mind. Who is this girl that lights up, when seeing another person that I may have only had the pleasure to meet once in my life, just got engaged…Smiling from ear to ear as if it were my own flesh and blood, genuinely happy, simply because they are genuinely happy. Scrolling up facebook 3:00 in the morning wanting to comment on every toothless baby photo, inspirational status, couples photo, and exciting news. Who am I becoming? …Mommy says its my metamorphosis. Can you say emotional? Sheesh! This was not the Lundon I knew, but I think I love who i’m becoming.
The Lundon who buys a box of stationery simply to write little cute notes to people that don’t expect it. The Lundon who calls and talks to her 87 year old friend about life and living it. This new Lundon will live in Whole Foods, The Herb shop, Local Markets, Thrift Stores, and Consignment shops everyday if I could. Story time is non-negotiable every Wednesday at 10:30am and am looking for other things to secure on our calendar. I still stress sometimes….but i’m learning to live life. What’s life for; if not to live it? This new chic knows her Friday nights and Saturday mornings are booked for her little brothers football games. Hanging with my mom is second nature and texting her sister randomly throughout the day will be noticed if skipped. “Im praying for you,” is no longer just a saying and “Thank you Jesus,” rings from my gut. Life is real for me now. Not real in the sense that it would imply an unrealistic view of life prior, but a real-ness in the sense of the realization that it must be enjoyed. Every moment. Every minute. Every word. Person. Circumstance. Situation. Life is really, real. Sometimes the new me can feel it so strong; life that is. Strong, like the fighting side of a winning arm wrestle. Fighting with every ounce of myself to simply push through the strength life can be, but also as strong that one has to be to even withstand the strength to push back.
Yeah…. Mom, says its my metamorphosis. I can feel myself transforming. I think that is the beautiful part. I can feel my “me” transform into something more beautiful, more refined, more ready. A caterpillar must know that she’s waiting. I wonder… does she ever get frustrated? Did she know she would have to shed what she knew as life for a better one? She has to be aware, right?…aware of her gradual transformation. Nonetheless, she waits patiently, working within herself. She must thrive in her cocoon until that day when she opens her beautiful wings as her new self. I guess this is how I’ll get my wings…
5:45 she seemingly skips down the lawn, pep in her step. If i didnt know any better i wouldve sworn she hoped off the walkway. More energy than i’d seen in awhile. She opens the door and hands me flowers..they are white almost tea cup shaped, tiny flowers with a green accent leaf attached; evidence they were freshly picked from her backyard garden…Happy Mothers Day as one piece of the three dangles off slightly. She holds it up with the rest and hands them over proudly… They have a sweet smell to them. Oh, thank you so much Ms. Wynn and happy Mothers Day to you too! Im so glad we got to do this. 5:52am we rush to the beach right around the corner. Google said the sun would be up at 5:58 we pull up 5:55 in preparation for the awesome scenery. She slips up her hood, opens the car door and climbs out. I follow suite. This day is all about her experience, so I keep a close watch and follow her lead. Watching the scene in amazement she whispers…I lean ever so slightly towards her to fully grasp her entire sentence being ever so careful to not miss a word. “Its so beautiful,” her words shake out of her so delicately and smooth. If you weren’t listening you’d miss it. If every word didn’t matter all you’d hear was silence. “Its amazing, after seeing something like this you have to believe there’s a God.” Her words still flowing out every so slightly…identical to the tears…single streams down her delicate wrinkled skin. She closes her eyes taking it all in, saying a prayer. Talking directly to her maker through silent sobs and sighs. I stand there quietly only agreeing in all its beauty. Her hand slips from out her pocket and raises towards her hood, pulling a piece up to hide her face just a little. The sun coming up higher and higher now, its above the water and shining down through the reflection in the tiny ripples; making a clear path of sun right in front of us. She reaches her finger out almost to paint the horizon with the tip of her nail. In awe of the beauty she has just witnessed. Repeating the painting of Gods canvas of life. She stretches her arms out as if to hug every memory of this moment into her mind. All life and happiness flow through her at this moment. All memories, happy and content, she simply stands wishing the sun would continue to rise in set in front of her. Never has she felt more in tune…never has she felt more alive than in this moment. She turns and whispers, “thank you,” and steps in for a hug. Her, oh so very strong, but delicate body embrace me; kind and caring… her hand pats my back as it shakes a bit from the extension…”thank you.” “New beginnings.” “Just as the sun rose, I rise. My day can only go up from here.” ..Im glad you enjoyed it 🙂 it was fun. It was life. Life is beautiful.
Happy Mothers Day 5/11/14
My Dear Friend Ms. Wynn 🙂