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The Moment
Jul. 10th, 2018 10:43 pmSomething really magic just happened.
I was feeling kinda lost, and kinda beaten down, and I was about to try for another night of restless sleep. But then I remembered an exercise my therapist suggested, writing down what my purpose was, as we had discussed multiple times. I'd always told her I'd do it when the moment struck me as right, and tonight, just now, it did.
And you know what? The funniest thing out of all of it isn't what I wrote (which is super important, don't get me wrong). It's not where my mind wandered to next, which was me trying to convince others of the need for that type of action, and it's not the grieving process I started to think about next.
It's the paper. And the pencil. I picked up that pad because it was in reach, in my creativity drawer (the bottom one in my nightstand). And I laughed when I picked up the pencil, and almost put it down, because that moment felt so right. In that moment, I found my fusion, of art and science, love and hope. For me, there is no purer a heart than that captured by the image of an artist's pencil, atop and engineer's pad.
I know I'll lose this from time to time, and hurt much more from here, but I write this to remember it, and to find my guide when all others seem lost.
With love,
Zeta
I was feeling kinda lost, and kinda beaten down, and I was about to try for another night of restless sleep. But then I remembered an exercise my therapist suggested, writing down what my purpose was, as we had discussed multiple times. I'd always told her I'd do it when the moment struck me as right, and tonight, just now, it did.
And you know what? The funniest thing out of all of it isn't what I wrote (which is super important, don't get me wrong). It's not where my mind wandered to next, which was me trying to convince others of the need for that type of action, and it's not the grieving process I started to think about next.
It's the paper. And the pencil. I picked up that pad because it was in reach, in my creativity drawer (the bottom one in my nightstand). And I laughed when I picked up the pencil, and almost put it down, because that moment felt so right. In that moment, I found my fusion, of art and science, love and hope. For me, there is no purer a heart than that captured by the image of an artist's pencil, atop and engineer's pad.
I know I'll lose this from time to time, and hurt much more from here, but I write this to remember it, and to find my guide when all others seem lost.
With love,
Zeta
