Lapse

Time places me here again. I just sit and watch while everything moves around me. I feel eyes. I feel heat. I stop. I have to. Sometimes I think I truly understand the meaning of forever. There are surprises every day. I recall all the mishaps of the past and everything that hurtfully untangled at the time. I think about it everyday. I suppose it is unfair in a way, but I have the right to grieve as long as I feel necessary. Lately, the distraction so powerful, I lose my grip and end up puzzled...confused. I should do the right thing, as always. So hard to break this ground that's forged us to transcend to silencing compromises. I used to be so passionate, fierce even.

Freedom has a price. And though I always followed that sense I so obviously encouraged, time has brought changes I cannot ignore or abandon. Freedom has a price. My stepfather told me that when I was a teenager. He said that no one was ever free. We all have bosses, people who regulate our lives for us. I hated him at that moment. I couldn't fight or argue my point because I possessed none. I sat and soaked in all he gave and taught and for years still trying to disprove him. For me, there was always more for me to uncover. Some abandoned truth I would discover. Some long peace would settle over my mind and I would be free.

When I was 9 years old, I did find my own truth. I didn't remember it until recently. Seldom do I forget certain moments of Zen, but this particular day came to me when I needed it, so perhaps subconsciously my mind kicks in when needed. At any rate, I lived in Oregon on this small mountain when I was younger. It was a beautiful mountain with less than a dozen residents and vast forest and tall grasses. My brother and I were playing in the meadow one day. I remember hearing him yelling in the distance, somewhere behind me, calling my name. I was running away from him in the woods between the trees as fast as I could. At some point, I couldn't hear him any longer, so I collapsed onto my knees in the grass. Sticks poked at my legs and the grass grazed my chin.

I remember thinking, as I looked up, how the sky looked like pink salmon and orange sherbet icecream. The sun was setting and I was transfixed by this beautiful moment I had discovered. I remember placing my arms in front of me and reaching as far as I could towards the sunset until my shoulders ached. When I was young, I believed that anything was possible. It never occurred to me then that I couldn't stop the sun from setting with just my fingertips. I just wanted to pause it, make that moment last. And it has.