Beauty carves her soul
Have you ever seen a sunset that brought tears to your eyes? Was it the realization that you are on a perfect planet in the perfect place in perfect company at the perfect time? Or something totally different?
I have moments of clarity that act as hallucinations. They are more real than anything but I can’t touch them. I can try. And I do. I can go deeper, through conversation or intimacy, but whatever it is I’m experiencing remains just out of reach. It’s untouchable.
I try to rationalize it and define it. Put it into words. It never works. And then, inevitably, I feel the wave of isolation. The overwhelming truth that we are all alone. The best and worst experiences of my life are just that…….mine, alone. No matter how much I want to share every detail and have it reflected back at me.
What is the point? Of this aching loneliness and desperation? Is it supposed to make us stronger and more available to those around us, so we can help ease their suffering? Or my own?
We all have a purpose. And the more I discover about myself I believe mine is to ask those questions. To just keep looking and asking and giving what I can, where I can.
It hardly feels like enough. I want so much more for myself and for you, if you need it. Am I the only one that desperately seeks such connection? It seems so important. So vital to my breath.
I crave connection everywhere. The human kind, the earthly scent of a rainforest pressing in on me kind, the cycles of the moon and ocean tides, all kinds, more kinds, deeper kinds.
That’s where I belong. Where my soul connects to that which cracks it open and sets it free, bonding me to something bigger…
Where is that place for you? On the road? With a person? As a parent? Building on a piece of land? Running a marathon? Sailing away?
I want to know. I want to find it. Alaska, family, love, lust, working to preserve our Earth’s natural resources, that’s where I’ve caught glimpses of it.
It can be a train wreck, caring so much in a world bound to be tumultuous.
So hang on, Angela. That’s my advice to myself. Hang on, cry when you have to, and laugh as often as possible. The next stop might be more beautiful than the last. The ride is worth it.
It is far better to have absolutely no idea where one is – and know it – than to believe confidently that one is where one is not. – Jean Dominique Cassini, Astronomer