On Being Alive: Feeling, pondering & existing.
I’ve come here to ponder, but aren’t we all pondering most of the time anyway?
Sitting in bed with my MacBook resting on my lap. The smell of freshly rained on fields flowing in through the open window, flooding my senses with memories of a life long gone. The rain pitter-pattering against the glass panes and the distant storm rumbling away across the countryside, taking with it the bandage that wrapped my bruised heart.
I’ve kept the window open, the humidity is heavy and my over-sized t-shirt is the best I can find on this summer evening to wear to bed comfortably.
The peacefulness is everything I needed tonight. The bleating of sheep a few fields across from my little cottage meets with the calming sound of the birds chirping, as they too, settle for the night. This is one of those particularly rare moments you sit in your life, this very second, and the quiet knowing settles in that this is everything you wanted. This is a memory future me will return to time and time again. Perhaps before I die, I’ll wish to feel the breeze from the open window on my skin and be reminded of a time I can only return to in memory.
I wrote about that memory once…
I know this is where I want to be. In my little cottage away from noise. I wish I had it in me to sit down and write a book because from the comfort of my cosy bed, salt lamp dimly lit as I write tonight, I know this is the life I want. I simply don’t think I’m good enough. Now and then I pick up my laptop to share thoughts and revel in the feeling of one day being the girl whose wrinkles grow deeper as she frets over her author image in the back of her many novels.
How often do you find yourself stopping and fully realising that right now is every choice you ever made for yourself?
I made this version of reality exist and while financially I have hurdles to jump and hedges to bet on, the rainy window panes and my beautifully cosy bed are what I imagined life to be.
I would do anything to bring back my grandad to tell him what I’ve achieved. That I smell the summer evenings spent sitting under the dusky late summer sky talking about life on evenings like this one, and it’s like we are sitting together once again.
I’m certain I’ve written something similar. Felt a pull to share my thoughts - a space to document real emotions in a world that’s disassociating from the simple purpose of being alive.
Wanting something beautiful should feed your soul, not your ego.
If you made it this far, I would love to hear if you have a story about your real, beautiful, being alive moment.
Until next time,
Michelle Bella x