Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Black Lace and Groovy Vibes
I got in my car and blasted the heat, turned up the music and headed for the highway. Despite the freezing temperatures, the sun poured in my windows and lifted the edges of my smile. I left town. I left just enough to say that I had skipped out, just enough to call it a road trip.
What is it about the open highway that feeds my soul?
I was feeling a bit dead inside. The staleness of winter, the drudgery of too many days spent in mechanistic routine, routine that in no way made my heart sing or my brain dance. One can live, after all, without actually living. It is possible to go about entire days or weeks or months, years even, and only LOOK the part of those who are thriving. Inside, thoughts rot, feelings decay, and the soul lies gasping for air.
Not to get all philosophical or morose, but it is amazing to me the number of people walking around dead. What is more amazing is the number of those people who seem to be okay with that. I got glasses when I was in seventh grade. To that point, I had no idea what the world really looked like. It seemed fine. Not great, but fine. I knew that something was not right but could not, even if pressed, tell you what that was. The day I went to have my new glasses fitted was, and I insert a shameless pun here, one of the most eye-opening experiences I have come across. I had been walking around with an okay life, and I was okay with that. I had no idea the colors, the vibrancy, the life I was missing. I had no idea the world without those specs.
I have spent the past couple months walking around without my figurative glasses.
So I jumped in the car and went wherever the road took me.
I began my day browsing a cute little bookshop. I visit this place as much for the earrings as I do for the books. And chimes. I love to run my fingers through the chimes. I am like a two-year-old listening to the pretty sounds and looking in wonder and awe at the crystals and stones, impressed by the magic of it all. I sat among the New Age section poring through titles on astrology, soul mates, near death experiences, and manifesting. I smelled the soaps and candles, the potpourri, and got my daily dose of inspiration from the excessive fridge magnet displays. I grabbed a book by an author I enjoy, carried it around the store like a little kid with her security blanket. I went from the bookstore to the mall. Usually, I am disgusted by malls. They radiate an ugly aura of mass consumerism, but I bought myself a few little pretties and am totally over that for now. I can’t tell you what the pretties were because it would not be appropriate for the page, but my purchases were lacy and black and très, très girly. They made my heart dance and my eyes smile. I finished my day at one of my favorite lunch spots. The food is gorgeous and the vibes groovy. It is a definite elixir for that which ails the soul.
As the day ended I felt life, REAL life, once again flowing through my veins. I believed my shot of soul feeding to be complete. As I woke this morning, however, I felt the need for just a bit more joy.
Day one was all about me. Day two would be for others.
THIS particular “road trip” would bring life to those around me. I looked at my world with new glasses. I looked at spots I had seen a million times before, spots that were good, that looked the part of thriving, that looked to be filled with life, but that in reality were just okay. I filled those spots. I filled them with smiles and kind acts and unexpected surprises. I filled them life, with REAL life. I meant the day to be for others, but it turns out that it was just as much for myself. For others, it was an exclamation point in their day. For me, it was a long ride down an open road.
My soul lay dying on the ground. I breathed into it the gift of life. I breathed into it the gift of life with nothing more than a few good tunes, some beautiful food, and the slightest hint of sexy black lace.