I have historically gravitated towards pain instead of softness

About a year has passed since the terrible happenings of last summer. I mean, retrospectively it was a pretty great happening (for me, anyway) but at the time it was terrible. Anyway.

I catch myself doing that thing where I’m thinking about all the strings of reality that my life could’ve taken, and I’m also doing that thing where I’m feeling like I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing.

Yeah, this is a big step for me.

Life has treated me well as of late. My current internal dialogue looks a little like this:

In another universe, apples are my favourite fruit.

In another universe, trees grow downwards from the sky, roots anchoring from the clouds.

In another universe, it’s 4pm on a Thursday and I’m waking up next to you.

In my education course, we were talking about celebrating ordinary moments in a toddler’s life (like being able to curl their toes, or finally realizing that lemons are sour and that people don’t normally eat them like they would oranges), and I’m not trying to imply that I’m a toddler (externally, anyway), but something about celebrating ordinary moments has gotten the better of me in the last month since I wrote my last blog post. I’ve compiled some of them:

  • feeling a soft breeze blowing against your face when you’re in an air conditioned car and it’s a little too hot outside
  • the little affirming beeps of the POS in shops when your card isn’t declined
  • feeling someone else’s skin upon your own after spending the last year feeling afraid to let people touch you
  • strangers that don’t point out that you accidentally pulled the “stop” cord on the bus before your stop
  • sunrises and sunsets. all of them.
  • the sting of the last rep in your set, when your body collapses just enough to let you know that you made it that far
  • feeling hot beverages trickle down your throat when you’re feeling stressed
  • knowing that even though sometimes we wish death upon ourselves, our white blood cells work their asses off to keep us in check, so really, we owe it to them to stay alive
  • feeling chocolate melt on your tongue
  • quiet brains
  • sitting at a table surrounded by people who love you and feeling gratitude wash over you, because you’re thankful for everything that’s brought you here
  • knowing that you can’t know sadness without knowing happiness, so it must exist
  • being comfortable with existing, and taking time to appreciate living
  • understanding that there are still so many wonderful people out there to meet, so many experiences out there to discover, and so many realms left to explore
  • knowing avocados are a thing and that they’re real and that they can be turned into smoothies

God, I feel so happy. If you asked me a year ago if I thought I’d be in this position, I’d probably laugh in your face.

Pleasant Morning by dualiti.net is licensed under CC0.


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Self-proclaimed jack-of-all-trades. Intersectional feminist. Educator/linguist in training. Fashionista, food-lover, and fairly poor hand-eye coordination.

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