Okay. I am sitting on the little green couch. Breathing in. Breathing out. My in-desperate-need-of-fruity-scented-lotion/raisin fingers rest against the keys and wait… Wait… Then Type… Then wait a moment more.
I am reaching deep into the hidden compartments of the bottom of my body and spirit letting the words pull through my shoulders, down my elbows, and spill out onto the keyboard of my little, glowing laptop and sitting back, watching them take me on a soaring adventure through the imagination of my thoughts and cleansing the noise scraping against my pounding brain.
This will be my story. My soul’s story. Whatever it wishes to share with you, partially in my control, partially wild and free without a restraining harness to hold it back...
There are things I cannot remember about who I was and the purpose I once knew I would someday fulfill. There were people I loved and who cared for me dearly, though I now am blinded of the memory of their smiling, loving faces. Those eyes, the ones that would gleam down on me with adoration knew then the full measurement of my someday potential.
If the heart were given lips, what would it say? What secrets might it hold that we don't even know about ourselves? If it could tell us who we are or who we were, would it share the pure knowledge to the unanswered questions mankind has struggled to glimpse for so, so long?
As our feet cup inside the mossy steps on our pathway through life, where do we turn to fill in the empty spaces that cloud the sight and glory of a completed picture filled with every detail of our worth and what all. of. this. means?
Although we have forgotten that grand beginning where we once lingered together harmoniously before this life, we are given the drops of dew sprinkled throughout our mortal existence that may quench our thirst just enough to continue climbing toward this strenuous, unreached goal.
And we are given the nutrients for survival that pour the energy into our aching muscles as we grip the crevasses of the jagged rocks and pull our burdensome weight up and over the towering mountains that lead to one shared, eternal objective.
That strength I speak of is God’s love. Through Him we may endure this passage of time.
The Other Introduction
Let us start NOT from the beginning. Let’s start right at this moment. Right where we are now. Isn’t that how life works? As you walk into the unfamiliar room and begin that awkward conversation with a complete stranger, it starts in that moment. Then grows into it’s own story. And someday when this strange, new character becomes your bosom friend and all the uncomfortable-ness of the unknown passes by, you'll look back and remember "your beginning" and not a moment sooner.
In this moment, I am a 20-something year old with long brunette hair that falls into rolling waves after air-drying from a hot, morning shower. True story.
I have a husband. Just one. And our souls are inseparable from our deep, passionate, fairytale love like those unrealistically featured in Disney movies. Also a true story.
We have been happily married for over six years now. By happily married, I mean with lots and lots of hardships, disagreements, grumpy days, tears, and misunderstandings that have been brutally outweighed by the happiness and laughter and perfect little moments nuzzled around and protecting the borders of our sacred relationship.
I have a cat. Kind of. It’s not technically our cat, but he is welcomed into our home with love every time he wanders onto the porch. And by welcomed into our home, I mean he has been trained to scamper directly into his little chevron suitcase bed (that I made copying others’ creativity on Pinterest) which is the ONLY place he is allowed to settle since I am ridiculously allergic to cats.
I am a life-long member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. THIS. This will definitely be talked about. This is a gigantic chunk of who I am.
I wish there was a better way to dissect who this "I" is that I am. I've always wondered after we are born and continue to grow if we shed layer after layer of the person we used to be and are continuously developing into a brand new version of ourselves, or if deep inside we are always the same person. A unique recipe of ingredients that is ours and ours alone. And even if our taste or texture changes from time to time, we own that recipe and will never be anyone else but that one being we were always destined to be.
I like to think it’s the latter of the two options... Someday I think we'll all know.