seek and find

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

i whip my hair back, but never forth... that is just asking for trouble

there are friends and then there are loved ones. its a fine line in my world; a line that gets hopped and scotched and botched and respected - it depends on the weather, and whether or not, it nearly always ends in tears.
happy tears, sad tears, remorseful tears, joyful tears.

in the past 72 hours i've been reminded, many times over, just how much i am loved and, more importantly, how much i love.
that i'm selfish: still trying to grow into my 26 year old skin, still trying to maintain my priorities, to not step on toes, to keep smiling as much as possible and to make myself a better person. my friends, my loved ones, my family, they've shown me great things this weekend. including the fact that, whenever, where ever, how ever, if you love and you are loved , you are indeed alive.
alive. 
26. 
well. 
and 
looking forward.

i was given a piece of chalk; a piece of white/grey chalk, that only i and my little friend Fisher received, that is to remind me to own my intentions, to make my decisions, to own my days and to be my best. the piece of chalk was bestowed upon me to assist me in my journey through the "dark forest" {oly-based-hippie talk for "your late twenties"} - where self reflection, self inspection abound; where selfless and selfish are arguably interchangeable.


i was given an investment into my photographic future.
i was given a book of correspondence, of beautiful, artful attempts to further ignite passion through prose, poetry and profound colors.
i was given an antique painting of a little girl being bucked from a bronco; it was given with a smile, a wink and a proud hug - "i'm glad you're back in the saddle, Syd."
i was given handmade feather earrings, hugs, cupcakes, smiles, sweetness.

i was given some tragic news, halting all the goodness and happiness: the death of an infant, of an innocent. the notion of it takes your breath away, the knowing of it takes your heart more than a moment to recover. the reality of it takes... well, forever to comprehend, to ingest, to realize.
my heart aches, breaks, for you my friends the Walters, and everyone else submerged in sadness over the loss of this lovely little lady. my hands are open to you, to yours, and will always be for you. 

to my sweet and lovely friends and family in Colorado, thank you for the sunny homecoming, the warm smiles and welcoming hugs; for the alley-way talks and the long-overdue looks. some interactions overshadowed others, some were under-appreciated and others still, overzealous, but, and i say this with complete confidence: i would not have changed or exchanged one interaction for another.

2 comments:

atomsfurpeace said...

Hey Sweet Sydney. From my perch uphill from my late twenties, I see you coming. Those 3 or 4 years were a gift to me. You're stalking those life lessons -as I do- from within. Relentless in pursuit. So I know you'll relate to the gratitude I feel for what I sense are permanent reminders from being caught in a serious of moments all at once selfish/humbling/isolating/unifying/boiling-with-passion/blissful-peace/petty/pure/cantankerous/gentle/wise/foolish/pursuant/passive... And the brilliance of knowing by now to trust Life. Thank you SO for being open to it all, always ready to dive into the Thick of It. It's the only place to be. (but it feels good to have some loved ones along the way)

Gregorio said...

Thanks for that, Sydney. I don't know you even the slightest bit but I sincerely appreciate the style of writing; your voice.