a moment of reflection

do we lose all of the moments that slip through time without getting typed up or jotted down? wizzing through space, meaningful events fall at my feet, and just as fast, fly away. only making time to sort through confusion or pain or sadness, good news is rarely heard. and i'm guilty of my own accusation (we usually are), to not make time to really sort through joy or pleasure or excitement or love. even in this moment, the reason to slow down and reflect exists because i'm unsure and somewhat worried and full of emotion i don't understand. it's as though all of the positive and wonderful things that have happened in the past week have somehow hid in a room of unimportance now that confusion and wonder has knocked on the door.

right now, more than investigating why or how i'm feeling the way i do, i just want to take the time to write it down. get it out. let it exist outside of myself somehow.

now it all seems so much clearer.. the reason why i love to write. writing, putting it on paper, or a screen, or someplace other than my mind doesn't merely give it life outside of my mind... but allows my mind to look at it from the outside, from another perspective, from a less involved view... allowing me to look in on it, as though i'm actually a bystander rather than participant. letting me investigate from a much less bias point of view than my own. much like travelling to another country, our stance becomes much more global once we have ventured away from home base, from our own minds and confines, and taken a look from the outside in.

and with all of this said, i still have yet to write what i mean and say how i feel. sometimes, i'm just not ready to venture away yet... sometimes i have to sit at home until my mind and body screams that i need to get out of the house. i'm still lounging on the couch, just waiting for the moment to come when i break, when i have to leave my emotions and go some place new. but until then, i don't want this moment to just fly free and be forgotten. it's weird though, that this moment means nothing. and it's the moments that mean the most that i don't find the time for. it's when i finally decide to make myself walk out the front door, that i don't carry a pen and paper with me, to record why or what gave me that extra push.

it all works out just fine though. like an evolution of events.. a manifestation of time is held within us, regardless of what there is to show or prove that all the grand adventures ever existed. somehow, we carry them with us. somehow, even if we cannot remember a single detail, they're never really forgotten.

beautiful, ey?