Another Box

When we prepare to move house, we fill up boxes. Stuff that sometimes we didn’t even know we had that is, however, too valuable to throw away. We place things in boxes often for temporary storage. To transfer them somewhere else. To keepsake them still.

We position things in boxes even to just organize our rooms. But whatever is placed inside is something we hold dear, objects that are tied to sentiments, events, and people, but mostly memories. It is the reminiscence of how we felt when we were first given that particular item, flower, stuffed toy, photo, souvenir, ticket, letter, post-it, or whatever it is we cherish so much.

It’s the feeling we try to hold on to. Because that is what is so hard to accept letting go of. The emotion. That sense of happiness that overwhelmed us during the presence of the now-boxed item.

We fill our lives with boxes because, unfortunately, we cannot do so in our minds. The chaos in our heads often breaks relationships out of exaggerated minute disagreements. Our tolerance diminishes as we grow older and we prefer to fill up boxes, no matter how big or small, and move on. Or at least convince ourselves to do so. To rediscover our own self, to build our strength again in the hope that the next box we will fill will be only to be moved somewhere better to be reopened.

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The fall of an angel

“What is it that I do so wrong?” she asked her godmother with a voice that was drowning out tears.

She didn’t know that somewhere else, he was wondering the same, but chose to keep it for himself, pretending everything was perfectly fine.

The godmother smiled and sighed. It was a question almost everyone had posed at least once in their lifetime. It usually came after a painful experience. When you elevated too high with euphoria and abruptly crashed to the ground, claiming you never saw the collision drawing near. It was after the fall of an angel.

“You know, even the devil was once an angel. People don’t show their true face immediately. Some may feign so well that it takes a very long time to see through them – if ever”.

“So we should just never trust anyone? Ever?” She sounded so innocent, so naïve.

“You should tread cautiously, drawing lessons from your previous experience. But you should not shut down your heart and stop being you”.

There was silence. She was contemplating what that meant and how it could be achieved.

“Even angels find their wings too heavy sometimes”, the godmother continued, aware that the angels’ allegory always worked. After all, she was the one who had imbued it on her.

“Sometimes we need to fall to be able to look up. To take a wrong turn so that we eventually get to the right place. We need the darkness to see the stars. Just remember the lessons you learn on your journey through life. But most of all, accept that some things just happen because something greater is waiting for you. It wasn’t where you were meant to be. Stop thinking too much about it. You’ll be grateful you moved on later”.

And then she said this that served as a wake-up call:

“We consume ourselves where we’re not meant to be and become blind to all that awaits us”.

Trampled emotions

There is an element of self-torture when you refuse to let some things slide and move on; when you’re constantly seeking an explanation, a justification, and a response to your ‘why?’.

Sometimes there is no answer. Or it may come when it no longer matters.

But the truth is, it already has no importance if it’s causing you so much grief and pondering.  

Some things are meant to be experienced. We’ll get something out of them eventually.

It’s if you overthink everything that you have trouble swallowing reality. Life isn’t easy. No one said it would be. And there is no explanation for why things happen. Some things are meant to be, others not. We do participate in them all, and have a role to play in activating a chain of events, of setting life into motion. And it is often up to us, how much or how far we will allow developments to proceed.

Overthinkers are usually over-feelers too. And the trouble with feeling everything too deeply, is that you get hurt too profoundly too quickly. Sentimentalism isn’t a trait of the strong. Unfortunately.

Whatever advice you’re given, you’ll never weather the storm if you don’t want to. If you don’t decide to paddle over the water and get to shore. If you don’t pick yourself up and carry on.

That’s the thing with feelings: they’re easily trampled upon and difficult to recover.

The sound of rain on a tin roof

©J Hardy Carroll

Since they moved, they hadn’t been to their old neighbourhood. It had already been three years. They found themselves on their old street by chance, having taken a wrong turn.

It was still there, only seeming abandoned.

Their old studio. The one where they first met and became intimate. Where they shared their dreams and learnt about one another.

The one where they would crawl into each other’s arms to sleep on nights when their lullaby was the patter of rain on the tin roof.

Some sounds will always be associated to certain memories no matter how much time passes.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Drawing a line, closing a door

There is a saying that “you don’t drown by falling in the water. You drown by staying there”. The allegory is linked to keeping your mind fixed upon the past. It’s the same as knocking constantly on a closed door and expecting it to open.

It is true that our hearts and minds often fail to coordinate on sentimental issues – you know what you need to do but you feel differently about it.

We need to close some doors. To draw a (final) line and move on. Not because what they offered was not good or worthwhile. But because they no longer lead anywhere.

We experience things in life to become better, to mature, to have a fuller existence. To live and not just be. But some things aren’t meant to last. Some are even meant to be your path towards something even better. You never know what wonders you will experience tomorrow, unless you let go of the past and embrace the present.

“When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us” – Alexander Graham Bell

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Learning

Words of the wise

“Do you remember what it was like the first time you got on a roller-coaster? The excitement you felt when standing in line, the thrill that engulfed you as you took your seat, the adrenaline rush, the fear and the nausea, and the pleasant relief at the end? Life is like that. Like a roller-coaster. Love is like that too. In time you learn to become stronger and wiser. But that does not mean you stop loving. Or living”.

Grandma May always had a way with words. Her voice was as soothing as a hot cup of chamomile tea. And she always knew exactly what to say at precisely the right moment. Tricia could think of no other person to turn to whenever she needed a word of advice, a shoulder to cry on, or simply a hug.

Ever since she was a young child, she would run to Grandma May whenever she scraped her knees and needed consolation, whenever she would fight with her parents for some reason or other, whenever she felt betrayed by her friends, and, above all, whenever she experienced a heartache. The latter was Grandma May’s specialty. It was not everyone who could mend a broken heart. But Grandma May knew all too well what it felt like, enough to be able to convince even the most heartbroken of creatures that they will survive. She never told Tricia what she herself had gone through in life. Even when she outright asked, Tricia would never get a clear response, only some sort of wise-person talk, like something Yoda from Star Wars would say.

“How can you be so sure that a love like that will come again? What if that was it? If you had your chance and you missed it? Where will I ever find someone who loves me as much? Who will care for me so? Who will I find to match with so perfectly?”

Tricia was firing out questions as if her torso was a machine gun that had been kept silent for too long. Tears were rolling down her cheeks as she lay in Grandma May’s arms and wondered how life can go on after such intense pain.

Grandma May had brought tissues, tea, cookies and a blanket. And she decided to tell her a story.

“A long time ago, when there were enough women and men to form communities, the first heartache appeared. For now, people were free to choose who they wanted their partner to be. When a pair was formed it was usually for life. But on rare occasions, the couple split. They simply decided they could not continue on the same path together because their thoughts were heading on two different trains. I know you’re probably wondering what these prehistoric people were thinking about, but I’ll have you know that ever since our hearts began to beat, our minds began to think. The couple who split up ran to their own families and asked exactly the same questions you do now. It is natural. Everyone does. It is part of the process. The wisest man in the village – he also happened to be the eldest – took each aside on separate occasions and told them this: In our lives, we all must pass through different stages in order to grow. Just as we go through extreme jubilation when we are happy, we also go through severe depression when we are sad. But our minds and bodies have developed their own mechanism to deal with these roller-coasters. It is something you may know as the Kübler-Ross model, or more simply the five stages of grief. It consists of the stages we go through in order to, in a sense, mourn for a period of our lives that has passed. In these five stages we go through denial (refusing to accept that this phase in our lives is over); anger (at everything and everyone for having led to this); bargaining (in an attempt to make things right if something else where to be done or if we tried harder); depression (because you begin to realize that you have to go on alone, no matter how much you may miss your previous life phase); and acceptance (when you truly acknowledge the fact that life goes on and you must rejoice the memories and become stronger through the experience). It is our process for recovering, becoming more resilient and moving one. Above all, however, it takes time. And just like every heartbroken soul that came after this couple, we all survive. It takes time and patience and lots of strength, but it does work. Keep yourself busy – but don’t forget. Learn new things – but don’t regret. Become tougher – but don’t stop being kind. You will get through this. Everyone always does.”

Tricia was watching Grandma May dumbfounded. She had stopped sniffing and sat there mesmerized by her words. She had nothing to say. No words could come forth to be uttered at this moment. Maybe it was better that way.

So, she got up and brought a board game for her to play with wise Grandma May.

Take back the night

 

 

 

 

 

The silence of a room feels so much louder
When you’re not here.
Everything seem so much darker
without you near.

In every picture we had
we used to smile
so widely
so truly
so fully.

We’ll never know what happened.
What changed.
What never did.

But now…
Where do we go from here?
how can it all go on
without the fire of passion
to fight away the fear?

How easy it easy to melt away,
like ice in a summer heat.
To long for air or water,
like love is the only thing you need.

What are you waiting for?
What is it that you need?
When will life ever be complete?
Or just a bit like you’ve always dreamed?

So, what are you waiting for?
Get up, move, even if you fall.
Don’t you want to live and be free?
Don’t you want to accomplish at least one dream?

The time will never be right.
Nor the location or the night.
There never was a plan.
Just a lot of faith.

All you have to do is take a leap
and believe you can fly.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Baggage Check

Caged

We all love going to the zoo. It’s a fun-filled entertainment park where you get to view all these amazing animals from all around the world. Animals that otherwise you would rarely have the chance to encounter. But what makes you wonder when at the zoo, is how these creatures, these animals who were literally born to be wild, can remain confined in the closed spaces they have been assigned. Caged. Just look at the lion, the “King of the jungle”, the beast of beasts, wandering restlessly inside its cage. The tigers spend most of their time “drifting” and then lying down as if admitting defeat and falling asleep. And every so often you hear complaints that “they aren’t really doing anything exciting”. But how can they? They really don’t have anything to do. All they look forward to in their days is for the gamekeeper to come along during feeding time. Back in the wild, they would have been running countless of miles, chasing their own food and experiencing the thrill of being alive. No wonder the Penguins of Madagascar keep plotting their escape from the zoo.

Living in a closed society, in a country that considers itself to be as entertaining and glamourous as a big city, but at the same time can’t shake off all the negative perks of a close-minded village, is very much like being caged.

There is hardly anything new or exciting to do, because it all just seems too pretentious. And it most often is. People attend events, concerts and openings etc, merely to appear in the relevant magazine section. Simply to be seen. It is a society that obliges you to have a broad network of contacts in order to get anywhere or get any work done. But at the same time, it is one which criticizes and talks about you consistently, as if you are the only one people should occupy their time with. And there are people who believe that you shouldn’t be seen doing pretty much anything, exactly because of the gossipers.

It is tiring most of all to deal with this stagnation when you know you have a restless spirit. When you know that this way of life has become stale and it is simply not good enough anymore. There is something better out there and you need to chase it. The point of feeling alive is to gain new experiences, to taste new things, to meet new places, to constantly learn. To smile more than you frown. To feel your heart flutter with excitement at the thought of going anywhere or doing anything. Once you lose that, then there is pretty much nothing left.

We were born to move around, to explore, to discover, to live and then settle.

In societies like those closed-up in their shell, people behave as if they are constantly the centre of it all. As if in the seven billion people that occupy the Earth, these are the ones that matter. And in some surprising way and as unwelcome as it may be, no matter how far you manage to fly away, they always manage to clip your wings and pull you back, like a tamer tugging at your leash. It is alight, even entertaining for a few weeks, but then, you sort of run out of reasons to get up in the morning and while you do enjoy the comfort and safety of this home, you crave experience and the new adventures that await out there. After all, when birds fly out of the nest, they (usually) don’t get pulled back in.

Like this amazing article states, “starting over isn’t about changing your scene, but the way you’re living in it. It’s about opening your eyes again, walking to the ledge and looking up, down and across, once again comprehending the vastness of life that sits openly waiting for you”.

Every now and then we all need a fresh start. Somewhere new. In order to get your pulse racing again. To vividly feel and inhale everything around you. To reignite your passion for life. To garner new life moments and new friends. To be reborn and keep moving on. To simply feel alive again.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Make It Anywhere (“If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere,” goes the famous song about New York City.)