We chase the wind.
Freshly chopped strawberries and a pinched nerve in my neck — I smile, I wince — because every day something is new, but most things stay the same. And oh, how this fact makes my impatience flare up. “Faster, faster! I’m unsatisfied,” feeling like a child; or more precisely, feeling simply human since a mysterious longing is rooted in all of us. Hungry creatures. Some have learned to trust and manage to hold the tension at bay. And others? We futilely chase the wind. (1)
Welcome to my blog, friends. I haven’t always found myself around people who share a tendency for existential pondering. It’s really a gift to have someone willing to go there — someone happy to admit they don’t know everything, willing to be vulnerable, and pursues their curiosities. If you have this kind of friend, please keep them close. The world can be a lonely place for the sensitive.
I have always liked to write to bring light to internal feelings, whether as a journal entry, a poem, or lyrics. My appreciation for language has intensified as I learn an entirely different one: Czech. Not being able to communicate with the same fluidity possible in my native tongue often leaves me feeling empty and inaccurately expressed rather than experiencing the joy of connection. So instead of ruthlessly holding my head under water in this new challenge, I’m attempting to create a balance. Replacing rush with compassion, impatience with trust. And this ‘pond’ will be my rest beside ‘still waters.’ (2)
This month, a friend and I took a long walk and poured our hearts out to each other. I felt alive. “Maybe everything will finally change,” I silently hoped — my chest still hummed with catharsis as we took in the pink sky and the sound of birds. By the time I walked through my front door, I was drowning out reality again with consistent hits of distraction from the screen in my palm. My peace slowly faded — or had I carelessly tossed it away? I knew I could return and accept that grace again. I knew I should, but I gave into the vertigo and sank into the dark.
The next morning, I knew I remain the unpredictable girl who disguises her fear as flame. She runs with the fire, chases the shimmer of sunlight on the waves of the wind. Because it pulls her in and it promises her novelty. And so I continue to find myself at an oh-so-well-known precipice. A big, scary, but exciting decision. A chance to throw everything to the clouds. I know by now that I do have courage, but I am beginning to ask myself more sincerely if I am using this courage for good. (3)
It seems to me that it takes a rare kind of person to truly know how to remain at peace — for more time than the ordinary human at least. “What do they have in common,” I wonder. Something is stirring in my soul. This time I intend to listen and accept instead of being overthrown by impulsion. (4, 5)
With love,
Solée
(1) Ecclesiastes 1:14
(2) Psalm 23:2
(3) 1 Peter 4:10
(4) Proverbs 19:20
(5) Proverbs 10:8
