when feeling ordinary…

.

“Thus we see that the all-important thing is not killing or giving life,
drinking or not drinking, living in the town or the country,
being lucky or unlucky, winning or losing.
It is how we win, how we lose, how we live or die;
finally, how we choose.
We walk, and our religion is shown
(even to the dullest and most insensitive person),
in how we walk.
Living in this world means choosing,
and the way we choose to walk is infallibly
and perfectly expressed in the walk itself.”
~ R. H. Blyth

felt so so ordinary on the bus coming home today.
ORDINARY and small.
i was so bored with the humdrum of my own brain that i wanted to go on holidays from myself.
so i kicked my own butt, lovingly.
i got off the bus kilometres before my bus stop
and i walked the rest of the way home.

I walked the shit out.
I walked like a pissed off warrior, like a monk, like a woman.
Like a girl in the breeze.

It was cold,
but the coldness awoke me.
And it was getting dark,
but goddamn it was beautiful.

With fading light and cold breeze and perfect dustypowder blue skies and orange sunsets,
it made me thankful.
It awoke me to the steadfast beauty that remains,
even when i can’t see out of my bleary and tired and ordinary eyes.

I walked on ground. Real ground.
Not that shitty concrete. REAL clay and clufts of grass.
Red bullants. Stones. It made my innards sigh, relieved to be so close to dirt again.

Today I took the path less travelled.
I had a mini adventure.

I was once ORDINARY and small
but I walked it out
and became me again.

Radiantly windswept, cold but ALIVE.
Leonie