June 24, 2007
For some weird reason today I felt like I really needed to get out of the house. I did “errands” and I wanted to leave. I needed something to do besides the boring usual: the sitting inside the house most of the day vegging and watching TV and then finally having a random commitment later in that day that I needed to go to. By then the day is over. A mediocre day. Not taking advantage that this was one more day I was able to live. Just living by waiting- waiting for the next day to come, the next event to come- never truly embracing the minutes that I have right now. So then that means 80% of life is unenjoyed anticipation of things you build up- boredom- preparation-reservation. 15% are the anticipated events. Then 5% are the cute, unpredictable, spur of the moment feel good times. At least this is how I think I spend most of my life. So much structure and scheduling you get drilled into your head that you should be doing “something productive” all the time or else it is all time lost-pointless- I have always wanted to come to the old manse by myself and write. I am in the company of Henry David Thoreau and Ralph Waldo Emerson. I admire them as two of my favorite writers and philosophers. I can identify with their writing and sometimes I feel like our writing is similar. I am sitting at one of the most beautiful spots that I know under a tree with just enough lighting. Looking out at the old battleground- now a gorgeous green field with wildflowers and bright grass. There are old trees everywhere that you can feel the history when you see them. Then there’s the concord river and all the canoes banked on the brown shore. The old bridge- it almost separates you from reality and paradise/contentment. The colors are alive- the temperature is perfect at 76 and your mind is clear. I smile when I remember all the time I spent here as a child- finding the secret passageways, learning the history, having picnics. It was so special. Maybe subconsciously it helped me in my writing in the early days- because these are the spots where Emerson and Thoreau sat. They were here writing about their life, their memories, how they think life should be lived- giving wisdom and insight to others and that’s why I write. I’m so happy I grew up here. There’s no stress here. There are no restrictions here. I think the birds tell you that when you walk up the sand path. All you hear is the birds, laughter, the crunch of your feet in the sand, and the breeze. Euphoria. You cannot help but smile and give a sigh of relief. Your existence becomes clear. Right this second I am Taylor. I’m a journalist. I’m a writer. I’m happy. My eyebrows aren’t furrowed. I’m comfortable and appearance doesn’t matter. I’m alone and for the first time in a while I’m not seeing it as a bad thing. Spirituality just makes sense when you sit here. The whole connection between God, soul, philosophy, asking questions, and contentment just comes together. The beautiful thing is people can share it together. Its not just for one person to see- we all can see it. It is not just another historical museum- the landscape is a museum. I love it when I’m in the mood to reflect because it makes me feel so good, so stable, so understanding, so in control. I wish I could take this time to think about college, depression, my life, my parents, my body, my friends, but it might almost ruin the already intense, simple moment that is being here. This clarity is perfect. Everyone’s so content and happy here. All the simple, childlike pleasures converge in this one place. The secret passageways. The butterflies. The flowers. The picnics. The children. It’s beautiful and I’m sitting here writing and people can probably see but I don’t care. No changing for others. No shyness. Innermost personal-that is writing- is just there for people to see. I’m always going to be this way and I can’t wait for the day that my husband or college boyfriend will see. Even some of my closest friends don’t even see it. A woman just came over to me and said what a beautiful script you write. That makes me smile. In my anxiety and my depression I would usually be timid or embarrassed, but not today. Today I smiled and said thank you.
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