Strangely Lovely

 I wonder what you're thinking when you stare out the window like that. Are you looking at the colors of the fall leaves on the trees? Are you looking at the sun shining through the branches? 

Surely you didn't see the ladies holding hands as they were walking. That was strangely lovely.

You're so young in your years, but you have a soul that's ancient and beautiful. You cried when I shared my perspective. How do you understand? 

I love your eyes. Deep and chocolate like mud I wish I could just dig into with my bare feet. So comforting, like they've known me forever in time. 

God bless you forever and ever, Amen. 

In Authenticity

 In authenticity. 

It's been a while since I picked up a work of art that has inspired my authentic writer's voice to re-emerge. Where was it? I wonder as I hear it talking in my mind once again after a long silence. Not only my writer's voice has re-emerged, but also, my desire to paint my inspiration. 

Of all places, the inspiration comes from a book for 8-12 year olds. Not only the book, but the sequence of events surrounding the book has lit that flame inside of me that I forgot existed in the busy life we are living. Being in the presence of phenomenal teachers, innovative students, surrounded by the support of family, friends and advisors. Immersed in a constant reminder of how incredibly fortunate we are, I find myself, once again.

My writers voice doesn't really have a place in the world anymore, I started to examine, because of all of the innovative new discoveries and excellent sources of information available to us now. Until I heard the authentic voices of those around me. Oh, I get it now. Maybe I'll jot down a few thoughts. 

Maybe I'll paint my desire to run. To hear nothing but my footsteps on the dirt path. 

Am I really meant to be a teacher? I examine my life path. 

The teacher explains the forces of a roller coaster and I think about the ride I created and how unfinished it remains. A part of me cries to myself because I'm inspired to continue. Where is that voice inside of me? Maybe it died. 

And what about the one that created a new educational path? In hiding? Probably. 

It's not really authentic enough, she said. Well, last time I made it authentic, I didn't pass. I replied. And that was that. Inauthenticity and in authenticity. I suppose that's where we find our balance.