i believe i have perfected the art of smiling while crying. Mind you, i didn’t say i was smiling when i wanted to cry. There’s a huge difference. i’m smiling. i’m crying. i can laugh through the tears as well and find it as primal as fucking.
i find this curious. It’s as if there is simply too much feeling for me to process and it spills out wherever it can.
i look at my reflection, marvel at the raw emotion, even snap a pic of it from time to time. It happened yesterday, sitting in my car while i waited for my daughter to finish her volunteer work. i left the windows down – allergies be damned – and smelled the blossoming trees and freshly cut grass. i spent time gazing at a puddle of dirty water along the gutter outside my car door and then leaned back and listened to wind chimes across the street. i smiled. i cried. i snapped the picture (here).
i am grateful for the people who have helped me to a place where i can connect with seemingly insignificant elements around me… where i can start to connect with the elements within me as well.
Sometimes, i watch my own affective responses as i would those of a specimen, fascinated by my reaction to things… wondering… what next?
This much i know, while it sometimes scares the shit out of my to live this way, i wouldn’t trade it for anything else.
Beauty in the World by Macy Gray
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