Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Constantly in the Darkness

I have learned that in order to see life you have to look for the little stories between the movements of those we love. Though we are all the greatest actors on this stage called life its the simplest moments, the small hesitation before a word is spoken, the casual way a hand reaches up to push a stray hair behind a ear.

Before my Grandma lost all sense of past and future and moved completely to the present she left me a voicemail message when I moved up to Logan for the first time living in a completely foreign (when there was a time when college campuses seemed strange) world I listened to that message over and over again when I was lonely, when I was frightened or when nothing made sense. It was the anchor of a voice pulling me through the faint light at the end of the hall. Then in a act of stupidity before I could record it off my phone I hit the 7 to delete instead of the 9 to save it.

Why am I sharing this? Because sometimes its the spaces where we need to remember, need to see, need to hear that voice to keep us going. Cause when you are standing on the edge of the crazy cliff you need something to pull you back, a purpose to make you feel that you aren't alone or the reminder of where you had direction.

Because right now I feel a little lost. But perhaps that's what I need to reach the place I'm going.

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