"at ease" for me does not mean parting my legs slightly and folding my hands behind my back
closure is a pretty nifty thing.
I suddenly feel less burdened. Less worried, and more willing to (...I wish there were a better way to word this) embrace the day. Nothing's changed, and I don't know anything now that I didn't already know. I haven't really said much that hadn't already been said. But...it's a state of mind. One that has to be reached together. You can't find closure on your own. You've got to look someone in the eye and get from them that same look that says "yeah, I guess that's it then."
So yeah.
After that little walk-and-talk, I went over to this spot that I'd been thinking of visiting for a couple weeks now. From where we unload the truck early mornings, there's this point you can see just past the sunrise and across the bay. A lone tree (or so I thought - it actually turned out to be two trees in a line) stands in such a way that the vastly different kinds of scenery that surround it all seem to point right at that one spot. So I went out there and gave it a good 30 minute hike from the spot that I parked at. I finally found this scene and just sat there to watch the sunset.
It was...kind of a relief more than anything else. Like reaching the surface to grasp a breath of fresh air only a second before you felt like you were going to give up and drown. A stiff-armed reminder that life goes on. I kinda needed just that. That, and the walk back to my car. But that's another polarized tale of getting just what I needed, just when I needed it.
Oh. Also, I've always kind of dreamt of having a moment where...a song comes on that you've heard a hundred times before, but never really listened to. And suddenly you hear it and it's like every word is being sung in direct response to the current moment of your life. Like the lyrics of the song are a carbon copy of the words running through your head. I've heard of people having moments like that, and read about it in stories or poetry, but I never thought it would happen to me. But tonight - this evening - I can say that I've been there.
I suddenly feel less burdened. Less worried, and more willing to (...I wish there were a better way to word this) embrace the day. Nothing's changed, and I don't know anything now that I didn't already know. I haven't really said much that hadn't already been said. But...it's a state of mind. One that has to be reached together. You can't find closure on your own. You've got to look someone in the eye and get from them that same look that says "yeah, I guess that's it then."
So yeah.
After that little walk-and-talk, I went over to this spot that I'd been thinking of visiting for a couple weeks now. From where we unload the truck early mornings, there's this point you can see just past the sunrise and across the bay. A lone tree (or so I thought - it actually turned out to be two trees in a line) stands in such a way that the vastly different kinds of scenery that surround it all seem to point right at that one spot. So I went out there and gave it a good 30 minute hike from the spot that I parked at. I finally found this scene and just sat there to watch the sunset.
It was...kind of a relief more than anything else. Like reaching the surface to grasp a breath of fresh air only a second before you felt like you were going to give up and drown. A stiff-armed reminder that life goes on. I kinda needed just that. That, and the walk back to my car. But that's another polarized tale of getting just what I needed, just when I needed it.
Oh. Also, I've always kind of dreamt of having a moment where...a song comes on that you've heard a hundred times before, but never really listened to. And suddenly you hear it and it's like every word is being sung in direct response to the current moment of your life. Like the lyrics of the song are a carbon copy of the words running through your head. I've heard of people having moments like that, and read about it in stories or poetry, but I never thought it would happen to me. But tonight - this evening - I can say that I've been there.