retreat

There's a moment when the static of life falls away and the soul you cover up on a daily basis is raw and exposed to you, its owner. Its the energy that attracts people to you, that causes them to walk away after meeting you feeling as if a golden ticket has been passed into their hands, and yet for you it is always a bit too far off to recognize. You glimpse it sometimes through the gifts of others - a beautiful song, a well-told story, a generous heart - you're reminded of that strength inside you, the blood that courses through your veins only. The ancestry and chromosomes that combined to make you: complex, daunting, spectacular. And in that moment, perhaps brought on by fatigue, the throwing up of your hands to the chaos around you, or sometimes at the end of something - a dear friend's life even - you find that core that everyone else sees so easily. You let the tears fall, you raise a glass, you retreat to a beautiful room you've created to explore the music that swirles inside you and so rarely has a chance to come out in its purest form.

I rarely see you at these moments, rarely have a chance to hear those notes unobscured by your anxiety and self doubt. Unlike you, I always know they're there -and I find myself burdened by the resentment of such infrequent access.

Then I start to think about how I must be the same. A different chemical composition, sure - but capable of at least as much. And of course just as likely to let the static cover it all up, force others or worse, randomness - from the most infrequent of moments to the despair of loss - remind me of what's inside, remind me of what could be.