Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Maybe I think more clearly in the morning.

When I woke up this morning, I did not rush to begin my routinely frantic process of getting ready. I simply turned on my back, and stared at my ceiling. I wasn't ready for the day to begin just yet. The fifth of May holds dark memories and I wasn't ready to remember them. The memories were quickly ushered in, however, by the third sounding of the alarm.

I rolled out of bed, put on my favorite sweater, and pinned my bangs back. (I only pin my bangs back on bad days). As I trudged down the stairs, five minutes behind schedule, mind you, I accepted, and embraced, the fact that I was going to be late for class. The natural inclination for normal human beings that are running late would be to start to rush. Mine, however, was to sit down at my piano and play through the single song I know by heart. When I played the last note, my fingers made their way back to the first note of the song, and started to play through it again.

I glanced up at the clock and it seemed to be screaming, "Now you are really going to be late, Hurry up!" But I ignored my impatient friend and delicately grabbed my keys, checked to make sure all the lights were off, and walk out the door. As the garage door began to crawl up, it started to reveal the thickest layer of fog I have seen since moving from Indiana.(they used to cancel school due to fog). It seemed to completely swallow everything around me. The world consisted of my driveway, and that was it. I found myself so paralyzed from the beauty, I ignored the jingling of my keys as they dropped from my hand onto the pavement.

I managed to regain my composure, and continued the journey to my car. As I turned the key, I realized that I was breathing heavily, and deeply. I'm not really sure why. I put my car in reverse and began to back-up, blindly. I couldn't see anything, until it was almost ten feet in front of me. Sure, I was a little scared, but I was also excited. This ever-so-familiar journey was transformed into this mysterious adventure. There is something so exhilarating about not knowing what is coming next.

The beauty of the unknown.

I reached for my volume dial and turned the Live at Olympia Theatre version of Oh My Sweet Carolina (accompanied with a harmonica piece that will melt you soul), up to an impossible volume.

I can honestly say that it was one of the most beautiful six and a half minutes I've ever experienced. I felt content, I felt free, I felt lost (the good kind), I felt alive.

Then, I made the dreaded left turn into the parking lot. This indescribable feeling being rudely and abruptly interrupted by the jolt of the speed bump passing under my tires. As I pulled into my parking spot, I glanced into my rear view mirror and saw that my bangs were pinned back.

And I remembered it was May 5th.


  1. Embracing the unknown, and reveling in its mystery--beautiful. I love your thoughts, Kinse. It's funny, we've been thinking along the same lines as of late...miss you already. Congratulations on graduating a little early. Love. you.


  2. kinsley this is absolutely beautiful.