The World’s Grace

The World’s Grace

“The world will astound you with its grace if you let it.” – 5 to 7

I watched a rather confusingly sweet movie the other day. I watched it, fell into an awe filled stupor, and watched it again the following day. It had the heart of a romance, yet was bridled with the conflicts brought upon by social standards. It made my heart flutter a bit with the beauty and grace of it all, leaving it saddened by the loss of love. I fell into a wishful longing once again, the kind of feel only achieved through watching incredibly touching rom coms.

There was a beautiful, charming woman. Her face lit up the screen. Had the movie no substance whatsoever, it may have still caught an eye or two by her smile alone. The young man who approached her was enchanted by her and I by his enchantment. She was married with children and he was her lover. It was an agreement known by all, including the husband who had a mistress himself, and even mentioned by the children. The man was distraught by his love for this older woman with the dazzling smile and the conflict in his heart that felt strangely like eternal damnation. How odd it was for them all to be so happy in this situation. How odd it was for him to feel at place. He often expressed his confusion and discomfort with it all to which she replied with the smooth accent of a French native:

“Let go of your ideas of what you think life should be. The world will astound you with its grace if you let it.”

The words spoken silkily and with a charming confidence have been floating through my mind ever since.

I have not known the world to astound me with grace. It has often surprised me with it’s cruelty and knack for disappointing circumstances, but grace? I’ve rarely known. So the words dance back and forth through my mind as I wonder if I have ever let it.
Has the world astounded this woman because it itself was taken aback by her charm? Or did she relax against the world and let it charm the smile onto her? Have I let it? Would it make a difference? Maybe we should all just let go?

Not Quite Forgotten

Not Quite Forgotten

I fall in love just a lil o lil bit every day with someone new
And every day I fall in love
I forget someone too

I forget you quite often
Your face disappears
Just like you wanted it to
I guess
Just like you said it should
Small things make me remember
Gestures
Face twitches
Stupid laughs
Remind me again
Of what I almost forgot
I smile
At a sweet memory
Untainted
Because I sucked the poison out
The poison made from
Red eyed tears
That you were using
To make me forget
But they remain sweet
Like the sugar cubes
I argued didn’t belong in tea
And that you dumped in yours
Like you didn’t believe in clogged arteries
And I remain fond of them
And you
Though I forget about you
Often
And your face is marked
In the attic of my mind
With cobwebs
It’s still a picture
I find myself fond of
When I remember
That it’s there
And my picture may not
Look as sweet to you
But it did once
And that’s the you
I like to remember

Candlelit Thoughts

Candlelit Thoughts

The lights have gone out in the bathroom and my roommate and I have yet to fix them. At the moment it’s being lit by candlelight. I don’t know if I’ll change it any time soon. I probably won’t. The effect seems to fit my life, which always sounds so dramatic when I tell about it that I laugh at the recanting. Occasionally, I even laugh when it’s happening. Drama seems so funny in real life. It just looks so out of place. And yet, it’s sort of all I really know.

Though drama befits the circumstance, I’m not actually thinking about anything all that dramatic. I was thinking about being someone. Whomever it is I’m supposed to be. I was thinking about how to become that without throwing away everything about me that I’ve spent my whole life trying to be. It sounds deep and thoughtful, but I think it might be more of an excuse to prolong my enjoyment of the candlelight.

I was thinking about rejection. I applied to be commencement speaker this year. I’m graduating college. I didn’t get it and that wasn’t surprising. I think at this point, I’ve applied to and gotten rejected by so many things that I’m a bit numb to the feeling. I see the words “I am sorry to…” give a polite, “oh okay”, sit back down, and finish my tea. If I’d decided to believe in purpose this week, I would’ve said that all of my rejections these past few years have been a plan to rid me of the fear often preceding them. I’m not sure I believe in that this week though. This week I just feel like the universe is being a bitch.

Every thing I go for gives the remarkable impression of being right outside of my reach. I can touch the glimmer of success with the tips of my fingers, but it never glows close enough for me to feel it’s warmth. They told me, as they usually do, of how very close I was. They told me, as they generally do, that the attempt I made was a phenomenal effort. They told me, as they often do, that they enjoyed it so much they were working to give me a consolation prize. I smiled. I thanked them. As I ordinarily do. My stomach fell to my toes (it’s very comfortable there) and I all but laughed aloud at the familiarity. They brought me in to tell me this. They wanted to reject me personally. My inner me keeled over in laughter. How often does something have to happen for it to be routine? How often in my life will I be great, but not great enough?

How is it that I can be everything I want to be and give everything I have to give and it still not be worth anything tangible? I do not feel devalued. I’ve spent too much of my life growing my self esteem to knock it down with things so slight, but still… Occasionally, I have to wonder: what it is about what I want to be that is not great enough to be seen as worthy? If I can do better then so be it, but who is it that decides what is best? Why is my idea of great so different than yours? What is it that you see? What is it that you see in me that’s wrong? Who should I ask for the final word?

I guess it always just reminds me that I’ve gotten more being likable than I have ever gotten from being seen as highly merited. It’s both amazing and slightly disappointing to be seen as less than you see yourself as. It’s humbling as well as discouraging.

My brother says that merit is too relative to certain people to be discouraged by its judgment. “It’s not that you’re not great, it’s that your type of greatness has yet to be seen by the right people.” And then both playfully and seriously he references the history of most great, dead artists…

It’s a funny thing, candlelight. Even playful words seem like painfully dramatic endings…

To You: Sincerely

To You: Sincerely

It wasn’t love
that drew me towards you
But uncertainty
I didn’t see everything I was
But instead
Saw things that I could be
It seems the same people
Are always on my mind
And you are one of three
I don’t understand
How rejection
Could be so attractive to me
I was fascinated by you
Because your world
Seemed so
Easy
You seemed to
Ebb and flow
With the current
Of the simplest simplicity
I could see the waves
Were tainted
Streaked with colors
Of anxiety
But I pulled your finger nails
Gently from your teeth
And kissed them lightly
At least I did in my imagination
I’m not sure
I did really
It seemed
A scary thought
To pull into my
Reality
It sounded
Too concrete
A little unfair
Of me
To present feelings
Of importance
When I couldn’t
commit fully
My thoughts were running
ramped elsewhere
But you pulled them down
right there next to me
I was too entranced by you
To be astounded
Of your interest
in me
I didn’t know you long
But you changed
My thoughts
Completely
I found that I
Became more present
When I focused
On blatant honesty
I was a little lighter
With you
Than I ever thought
I could be
There was no hushed, dark
Sense of revealed secrets
Just pristine
Vulnerability
I may have ran
Too fast toward you
Possibly a bit too
Eagerly
I tend to chase
Beautiful things
Beautiful feelings
Especially
You opened up
my heart
And left a spongy
Piece of you
Inside of me
My intentions
weren’t malicious
Though possibly
Presented poorly
I would love
To say things to you
But I won’t
Because you seem
So happy
And I hope you
Accept my best wishes
Because to you
They’ll always
Be sent
Most sincerely