| 10:37a |
The Goddess of Love
From my position on the futon, I can see a small slither of sunlight laying on the carpet in the bedroom, where the door is ajar. It is quiet in the apartment. Only the sound of the refrigerator running and my fingers tapping on the keyboard are present. The little stripe of light has slowly migrated across the carpet, so that it is almost out of sight, now. It reminds me of my childhood. We have this large window in our living room at my dad's house and in the early morning light would pour in and paint the dark brown carpet a luminescent shade of glittering gold. As I watched my morning cartoons, I used to bath, quite literally, in the rays of sun, splaying myself out in the pool of light, soaking in the heat.
There are few places in my apartment where the sunlight creates patterns such as this one. The bedroom window captures the early morning sunlight since it faces east, and the shades are mostly drawn. That is why just this small, promising crack of light has made its way into our concealed bedroom.
Although nostalgic for that memory of my youth, the quickly disappearing stripe of light reminds me of myself. Over the past few months, I have disappeared and reappeared; my energy has waxed and waned. I have inconsistently been alive. Prying into the world, like a glimmer of hope, I have tried to survive in what has felt like dark disparity. Yesterday, I felt the most energetic I have felt in probably a year, at least, and was in amazement of how great it felt to get things done like I used to be able to do. I found out later, that the moon and Venus were aligned, where Venus was at its maximum brightness. Apparently, if you believe in astrology, this occurrence means that there is a heightened sense of energy present. I'm not sure why this is so, I'm no expert and usually do not rely on astrology as an answer. But I found that to be a convenient coincidence.
Little by little, whether or not the planets or the divine have played a role, I have gently coaxed myself out of a long slumber. I feel warm inside and shiny, like a small ray of hope has been cast through the dark shades of my psyche.
Now, if I glance toward the bedroom, the little stripe is gone. It has drifted out of view. All that remains is a general, less bright, but still warm hue. A subtle light, filling the bedroom with a more calming and reliable atmosphere. This is where I am, lately. Consistent. Safe. That light will fill the bedroom for hours, whereas the brilliantly beautiful white-gold apparition has manifested and confined itself.
I long to find that white-gold kind of sparkly happiness within myself more permanently, but I am glad to have at least seen a glance, to know it exists, and to be left in the daylight instead of the nebulous midnight I have wandered blindly through all these months. |