Believe Rock

This last rock in the series I collected two winters ago, just before painting my way out to Indiana and back, is definitely a light I want to share——not hoard or keep to myself. Some people care big with widespread colors and oceans of understanding, while others care quite poignantly. I thought I was going to paint this rock once I got settled in my new home, but I painted it early, a few nights before I moved on from my last and just as the sun was setting along the mountain horizon in the most inspiring way.

Ah, and now the phone rings, and my tears stop as it all solidifies. I like how strong and unwavering I am, soft and caring, highly connected and truthful too. I guess the tears were the “dreaming in revelry” kind, not so much dreaming, but sincere-heartedly feeling. Is the magic gone now that I’ve stopped to get up and check my phone? Maybe it’s matured or changed like this rock’s painting turned from a sunset into a sunrise.

Because you see, I’m not actually sad. I’m really quite amazed by how everything has continued to flow. There was a part of me earlier that felt like deleting one of my old blog posts for clarity’s sake and letting go purposes, but I prefer this channeled way of living, where I have full trust in myself and the greater picture. Sure, I may pick up on other people’s regrets, longings, and frustration every now and then with their own choices and lives, but that’s not how I feel, nor how I want them to feel.

Here’s where the light comes in——the sunset to sunrise part. I want everyone to feel good about their life’s path. Just because someone wasn’t good for me doesn’t mean that they’re not a good person or aren’t good for someone else.

And now back to the tears originally felt while hanging out with this rock——some people are so bizarrely connected, beyond my personal way of understanding this world, that they almost act as an artful tool themselves, helping me create and follow my dreams no matter how seemingly nonsensical their behavior in the moment. I credit Anthony with nudging me to complete my second memoir’s rough draft before my upcoming vacation, and I thank him for all those times he made suggestions that I took because the pacing in the writing came out right and the most meaningful threads in the end pulled through.

Most of the journals I wrote in were gifts from him——the same pages I ended up needing to take in the car with me toward the end of our relationship when curiousity became too much and boundary setting inevitable. I’m not mad or resentful about any of it. Quite the opposite. We worked together in such a strangely beautiful way, I find it impossible to write about this rock without acknowledging why I painted it in the first place. I wish the best for him. Not because he wishes me the best and always has, but because I genuinely mean it. This rock is a hope and a ray of light that I shine on myself and shine on him too. It’s a hope and a ray of light I’m looking forward to him seeing everyday within, and I’m looking forward to more people seeing it within themselves too.

In the midst of such an awake world that doesn’t scare me at all, I want others to realize there is nothing to fear. By inspiring me to write the last leg of my memoir much like I lived it in real life, Anthony helped me remember who I truly saved——the underground abused, misunderstood, and most caring lovebugs. I put my wings out, golden feathers wide, only to make the loudest spiritual statement ever about those with good morals and good hearts, simply in need of a place. We all need a friend like Edward Bloom from the movie Big Fish who understands and isn’t afraid. That’s how it begins. That’s how the sun rises each and every day and how terrible systems, families, and labels that increase lies and worsen abuse are finally shed.

Because I love big like this——big like Edward Bloom——I find it easy to see the golden threads of light illuminating the horizon cracks. There is always a livable place left for us, and together, we make it heaven. We make it heaven by sticking to our morals and values, by understanding each other, by caring about the same sort of things, by giving each other space to feel, and by promising to never hurt one another the way people and systems from our past wrongfully did.

I share this light, and I color it with my own sort of rainbow to inspire you and whoever reads this to keep reclaiming those gifts from the heart. I hope you always drum to your own beat and continue to feel nature’s love and green embrace. May your dreams come true, not because of luck or chance, but because you make them happen——because you believe in yourself, the rocks, the path, the music, the writing, or whatever it is so much, that your life’s big picture suddenly comes into view and it all just starts to make sense.