December 2007
Boomerang
“I deal”—what a horrible juxtaposition of letters. As if dealing with life is such an easy thing to do, especially when things come at you fast. You never really know what to expect as life twists and turns are witnessed. Even the slightest puff of wind can send your life into a crash course. Just when you thought you were soaring…
I used to think I had the ideal life. Humph. Ideal—whatever that is. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that the people you love have the power to wound you. And eventually, everyone you open your heart up to will slam a door shut on it at one point or another—knowingly or not. That’s just the way things work. And whether you open the door again is your choice. Can you risk being hit again? Is there any other way to learn?
Expectations—we all have them. We all want perfection because we fantasized about having that ’perfect life’ growing up. We expect everyone to be the way the stories told us they would be. We expect that bloodless, happy ending. We never expected to meet people who actually enjoy wounding you. We never expected something so wonderful, like love, to hurt so much. We never expected our lives to careen from their course. We never expected to feel so much pain and disappointment.
Our expectations plummet once we realize life isn‘t as ideal as we thought it would be. We begin to anticipate the impact before it strikes—if it ever strikes at all. We expect it to; we expect too much.
If you expect perfection to be waiting on the other side of the fence, you might as well hope for a leprechaun as a neighbor. People aren’t so perfect. I mean, we all know people make mistakes—that’s a given. People say things out of anger and frustration…okay. But how do you mend the wounds that were knowingly cut? How do we forgive once the blood-stained boomerang stops? Do we wash it off? Do we break it in two? Do we lose faith altogether?
Lately I’ve learned that you pretty much have to take life as it comes hurtling at you. You can either duck, let it travel past you, and then let it slap into your back later, or you can deal with things before they spiral out of control. If you throw a boomerang out there, know that it’s going to come back to you. There are consequences to every action we make. Pain is a part of life, but it shouldn‘t consume us.
Ideal: there’s no such thing. If you think life is perfect, just wait for it. I can already hear the next boomerang twisting through the air. Who knows? It may just whiz right past me…
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The Days of Santa
Gone are the days of Santa Claus and reindeer for me–that gig is up. And, no, despite what some of you may think, I didn’t just find out that Santa isn‘t a real fat man who squeezes down chimneys in order to give presents to children. That miraculous cloud busted years ago.
As I drove home from work tonight, I realized there aren’t that many days left before Christmas. And, honestly, the only thing that got me thinking about Christmas was the abundance of snow on the road, and the only reason I thought about the snow was because I didn’t want to plunge from a cliff. (That, and the snow was falling heavily tonight.) It just doesn’t feel like that ‘magical’ time of year.
For me: the older I get, the more the season loses is charm. Yes, I know it’s too commercialized these days. And yes, I know people have forgotten the true reason of Christmas (the birth of our Savior, Jesus Christ.) But, do you sometimes ever wonder when you lost the wonder that the season brought–like, the exact moment all of the childish awe melted away with the snow? Do you ever miss that feeling? I know I do.
I remember being small enough to curl up behind the Christmas tree as if it were yesterday. I would take a blanket and make my own little secret place there behind the tree and read a book beneath the array of sparkling Christmas lights above me. Gosh, how I miss that humble peace! It was truly a magical time in its own right.
I remember a time when the amount of presents and the amount of money spent didn’t matter. We were thankful for what we had, and we were thankful for each other. Whatever happened to those simple times? Whatever happened to those loving thoughts?
Tonight I leaned against the windowsill like a child searching the skies for a Santa, sipping a cup of hot chocolate while steam coiled and twisted a smoky vine through the air. And as I gazed through the patches of condensation on the windowpane, I realized that maybe there’s still a little bit of magic and love left even after the days of Santa. Because as the snowflakes fell against the glow of the streetlamp, an enchantment blanketed the world outside with a million winks of wonder. And, despite the cold, I smiled back at Old Man Winter.
Maybe there’s still hope for the world…if we would only remember…
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Chemistry
Alas, I’m the type of person who falls entirely too fast if the right amount of chemistry is involved. And more often than not, I naively wear my heart on my sleeve. But with chemistry, you risk getting burned–that’s just the chance you take. You never know what the end result is going to be until you go through the trials and tests of life. Who knows? It could be something beautiful, or it could be acid that burns. The search for love is a never-ending experiment, itself.
The past few years I’ve had a constant shift in priorities. I had been concentrating solely on getting my life onto a track that would lead somewhere I wanted to go. So, naturally, I wasn’t keen on the prospect of settling down and involving someone else in a life already so chaotic. Unfortunately, this meant I had passed several stops on the way and hurt a few people, but you can’t slow down when attempting to go uphill. I made a few mistakes I regret and hit a few potholes along the way, but I’m at a good place in my life that I’m comfortable with.
It wasn’t until recently that I decided it might be time to pursue something more meaningful in life, like a relationship. I knew it was time to put away my self-centeredness and go out on a date; it had been a long time and I was admittedly getting a little lonely. The opportunity arose last week to take that step once again, so I did.
Derek and I had briefly went out over two years ago and hit it off on a series of dates which led no where due to our hectic schedules and the distance between us. A lot has changed since then, but we both still led separate and fairly hectic lives. It was a reunion of sorts that was certainly long overdue, but I still had my doubts about the expiration date of the potential relationship. (Of course, we tend not to care about these things when we like someone enough and want it to work out.) I tried to approach the date with a neutral attitude–either it would work out or it wouldn’t.
The date went really well, and we picked up right where we left off over dinner. The spark still flickered and burned away even the slightest hint of an awkward moment. We talked for the longest time and minutes passed by unnoticed.
When we were alone, we caught up on our lives without the hassle of music or a waitress interrupting us. Then, out of nowhere, I remember his warm hand reaching over and resting beneath my chin. Without saying a word he pulled my lips to his and, for an instant, my blood seemed to heat and melt my soul to a puddle of wax. I closed my eyes in the silent passion of the kiss, no longer caring if I got hurt or if the world caved in around me–all I cared about was being lost in that flash of blinding passion. I let myself melt.
In the silence of the kiss, he said more than he ever did before, and all I could do was tell myself I wouldn’t evaporate…
