The sun is shining and I’m beginning to feel human again.
Or maybe more accurately, I feel like a plant, sunning my leaves and petals that have been cooped up and shrivelled for far too long. Every month, I resist the temptation to write whew, it started out as a really hard month, but we did it, because it’s cliche, but also, it is true.
Whew. It started out as a really hard month. But we did it.
Here we are, on the other side.
I cried a lot this month. A lot out of anguish, premature grief, really real really present grief, but also out of pride, contentment, relief. I’m thankful for the release. After a lifetime of not being able — or not allowing myself — to cry, I am genuinely grateful to be able to process my emotions fully, buoyed by my loves.
On a particularly tearful night, Nathan and I took a nighttime walk where they led me to a towering magnolia tree. In the absence of the sun, each branch disappeared against the midnight-blue sky, and made each magnolia float.
STOP: a save-point, a kiss-point, a stand-under-this-big-tree-and-feel-the-smallness-of-yourself-in-this-big-big-world-point.
Falling in love with you is realizing how many magnolia trees are in Strathcona.
It’s spring and I’m in love.
It’s spring and I’m taking steps to feel at home in my body.
It’s spring and I’m building relationships I want to last lifetimes.
One particularly glorious sunny weekend, Emily got married to the love of her life. I was lucky to witness it all as a member of her bridal party; I met their families, helped decorate the venue with fresh flowers, and saw the way Matt looked at her throughout the entire ceremony.
I feel it in my body, know it in my mind, oh I,
I’m gonna love you for a long time.
The wedding was held at the place Emily and Matt met each other for the first time (romantic!) which also happened to be steps away from the theatre where I spent endless days cooped up in undergrad.
I was mystified by how I missed this beautiful pocket of campus in all my four years there. During my late teens and very early twenties, running entirely on anxiety, adrenaline, and way too much Lemon Elation Yerba Mate, I spent countless hours fixated on “proving myself” (AKA seeking validation from people who’ll never give it to me, in systems that were not designed with people like me in mind). It all feels meaningless now. All of that self-inflicted pressure, toxic perfectionism, massive burnout, when I literally should’ve just stepped outside to literally touch grass.
Or touch a flower!!
Bright, almost-orange-yellow spreading like cold butter on hot, crisped toast. The longer you stare at the line where yellow meets pink, the more it feels like it’s moving, oozing out more and more on the translucent pink petals.
A shock of yellow like bunches of tiny suns, to dazzle even the weariest, blue-light fatigued, twelfth-hour-in-a-dark-theatre exhausted eyes.
I want to hold all of my past selves like this —
— gently, with cupped hands, towards the sunshine.
Even when I feel like this —
— scattered, torn apart, trashed — there is still worth. There is still beauty. There is still colour, leaping out, bright, powerful.
There is beauty even in the tiniest scraps of colour.
I have a tiny gratitude practice of repeating thank you three times in my head whenever I experience beautiful, deep love. Often, it happens in the moments where I remember to take a breath. Deep breath in, and I scan my surroundings. I am so deeply grateful to be here, even though it took awhile for me to get to where I am today. Or maybe because it took me so long? Deep breath out. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m sharing this because maybe it might help you, too.
It’s spring and I feel alive again.
I feel myself stretching and becoming someone I’m proud of blooming into. I’m grateful I made it through all the hard parts to make it here, alive, right now.
I’m grateful I made it here so I can see the ginkgo leaves bud and sprout again, haphazardly, against that vivid red wall and clear blue sky. A tree that grows in all direction — endless possibility. Thank you, thank you, thank you.