I've been crafting the idea for this post for a couple of days and frankly have been putting off posting it because the whole purpose of this thing is to express my gratefulness, right? To express why I love certain places or people or experiences, not to complain about certain places, people or experiences. And yet, here I am at two in the morning trying to put into words the thoughts in my head. Here we go...
There is a heaviness that comes with being in this house. There is a heaviness in the blanket of snow that covers every available surface of the outdoors just as there is a heaviness to the blankets that cover me now in bed. There is a heaviness to the food that we eat, sometimes reverently, but usually mindlessly. My feet feel the heaviness of the socks that I am forced to wear and silently resent since my day-to-day life involves flip-flops, peep-toed pumps and gladiator sandals.
More than anything, the air in the house has a heaviness too. It is tinged with smoke from the wood stove and a dryness that comes from a lack of moisture and communication. There is a heaviness that is automatically attached with the things that go unsaid and with the thoughts that make it all the way to the tip of your tongue, just to be swallowed, compounded and internalized. The heaviness gets attached to your movements and actions and before you know it, your default becomes avoidance which has a heaviness unto itself. The things that go unsaid are the heaviest of all.
For what am I grateful? The lightness of California. The crispness of the air and the valued relationships that California brings. The delicacy of food and wine with a healthy dose of laughter on the side. The buoyancy that still grips the pit of my stomach when I see the ocean for the first time in awhile. I am grateful for the ease of my life in California.
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