Day 4: Children

I spend each day sealing cardboard box edges; concealing its contents with the screech of a tape gun.   Shipping samples, sending out goods; and in the midst I don’t give much thought to the wonder of a cardboard box that a small child materializes in their ingenuous, constantly churning psyche.  Olive-shaped, gleaming, doe-eyes with gummy smiles and pure faces.  Tiny drooly grins.  The innocence they embody so precious and extraordinary.  Four build-able walls, perforated edges of endless possibility.  Potential plots and illusions explode once the tape is cautiously peeled back. Break it down, dance on top. Fill with playthings, a fort or a hideaway to devour a good story.  “Keep Out” signs, or “come play with me.”  The inventiveness of this tiny human bubbles up and is famously infectious. The laughter echoes inside the layers of paper, and it draws you in.  You climb halfway, bargaining with the two-year-old that you can, and will, fit inside.  When really it’s that you long to fit inside that world again.  That truly innocent existence.   Cautious, yet uninhibited.  Spry, yet nodding off after a well versed story, with a safe shoulder to meet their doze.  You wished your whole young life to be grown-up, and now all you want is to regress to grass stains and scribbled notes on lined pages.  You crave to span out along the floor, extending every piece of you, ground yourself and become that little life. You long to play pretend, once again. 

Day 3: Marriage

A critical component of my growth as a human being can be attributed to my relationship with my husband.  His resilience and willingness to patiently care for me, while adjusting to my own quirks and personal dynamics (and mine, his) is one of the many reasons why it’s a been a success and continues to thrive.   Our marriage was a turning point only in that our bond was secured, sealed on paper, witnesses attested it.  The truth, though, is that our roots anchored and kept us stable long before that day of matrimony.  We were two people as friends, first.  We were cohabitants prior to our union, which was more complicated than I would have anticipated.  We are so very diverse in our personalities and nature, and this proved to be a struggle in the earlier months of our existing beneath the same roof.  With time, we grew more patient about or space and it became our sacred home, filled with peace and a dream we’d always longed for.

And yet our core values remain our constant.  Loyalty, truth, laughter and friendship are our major priorities.  Our marriage has taught me how to facilitate better communication, to know when silence, and only my ears, not my lips, are needed by him.   To know when to give him space, when to extend my arms.  To become a more independent being. 

I don’t consider myself an especially religious person, I am far more spiritual.  However, the prayer for our marriage made on our wedding day was that we would love each other least that day and that it would continue to grow. I didn't know in that moment sitting with him in church, hand in hand, how true that would be. Three years later, and I'm even more eager about delving into this life with him with an enhanced passion than I had for him that day. I know as the years go by, it will only taste sweeter. His gifts to me are endless: laughter, compassion, honesty, friendship and more fun than I could have ever imagined. We have our moments, and not every day is easy.  It is far from perfect.  Loving him is loving an imperfect being, and I know it is the same for him.  And yet it works.  I am his, he is mine.  He is it.

Day 2: Love

Moments of us, lazily strewn about the supple leather couch where we settle together: no distractions.  Slowly sipping coffee from oversized mugs, either wordless or deeply rooted in banter.  That silent perceptive way you gaze at me, when I’m misplaced or unsettled.  It is an unspoken knowingness; you intuitively feel my anguish or partner in my joy.  Not how you complete me, you couldn’t, as alone, I am whole; rather how you fill those troubled spaces buried deep beneath.  How you radiate positivity, with an eagerness to contribute, an earnestness to make me better.  You sharpen the flavors of my very existence.  You bring about the life in me.  The love in me.

Unguardedly, whole-heartedly.

And in return, I adore. 

I love you more.

Day 1: Introduction – The Coming of the Ship

In a way I am clothed.  Hidden.  Cloaked beneath the fibers that I stitch together.  Insecurity-bound juxtaposed with my sashay through life with quiet confidence.  I write under the pseudonyms of the ones I love.  I claim to be a skilled wordsmith (by hand, not by mouth), and yet I also claim to be devoid of ideas.  A concept drought.  ‘I can write it beautifully,’ I say to myself, ‘and yet I depend on others to provide the content for me.’  So, following suit to my past patterns, I consult with my father.  

"There’s a thirty-one-day online writing challenge coming up, and I’d like to join.”   I don’t mention that it’s because firstly, I’d like to see if I can actually stick with something for thirty-one days, and secondly, to see if I can drum up with engaging ideas for each day.  I know this will be a true undertaking and a discipline I have much affinity for and yet one which I abandon often.  I ask him for suggestions.  

“What about knitting?”, he says.

"Too obvious,” I mutter.  That is another creative outlet entirely, and I do not want this project to feel like a chore.  I also want it to be multi-faceted.   He then presents the idea to write about the topics in his favorite book, The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran.  

“Write about love,” he says.  “Write about marriage.” 

It seems too simple and yet it is the simplicity of the idea and the complexity of my thoughts that draws me to the project.  I feel the churning of the tide, tugging my feet away from the insecure sand beneath me.  I think this venture will keep my attention-deficit mind intrigued throughout this month.  Should I read the book beforehand?  No, I decide.  I will form my own ideas about these human condition topics, and explore the book afterwards.  A perfect way to reflect.  So it’s done.  And here I am.  Called to sail this month on a writing voyage that both frightens me (I am, after all, putting content out for the world to read, blogging really for the first time), and called to introspect about such heavily discussed topics.  

But then again, they are life… and I am life.

Cheers to the next 31.