in the fury of the moment

the smell i love the most

I'm listening to "Sho Heen" by Kate Rusby. I think I could probably just close my eyes right now, right here at my desk, inside my little office with the drab gray carpet and dull white walls, while the sun teases me through the windows, and drift away ... drift off to a far away place where silly questions don't bump around in my head, and where I can laugh at everything and nothing, and cry at the beauty of it all.

But the song ended, and I'm still here. Still here in my office where I try not to look out the window too much, because I know it will only remind me that this is exactly where I said I would never be: sitting at a desk, staring at a computer all day.

Oh, aren't I the cheerful girl today. I don't know what's going on with me -- I've been in this weird funk lately. Ah, as if God is giving me an answer, here's the next song on my iTunes lineup: "Everything Means Nothing" by Late Tuesday. Ha. Could it have something to do with these tricky feelings I'm trying to stifle? I'm not even sure what they are, but I know they're nothing I want to deal with right now. I think it has something to do with the approach of autumn. This is my favorite season of the year, and I guess I hold onto these pictures of what I think autumn looks like ... walking through piles of crunchy leaves, cuddling up next to a crackling campfire, hand-holding and long hugs. I don't know where I get these pictures. I don't even know when was the last time I was actually in a relationship with someone, and it happened to be the fall. Maybe it's because fall is full of my favorite things: stark beauty in creation, crisp air, clear night skies, perfect long-walk weather ... so I want to share these things with someone.

And then there's the smell that for some reason I always associate with fall, even though it could just as easily be a summer smell. The smell of a campfire ... even more when it's the lingering type that's there in the morning when I wake after a night of being with friends around a fire. The other night was one of those nights. I had dinner at my friend Kristen's house, and we sat around the firepit outside for hours afterward and talked. And when I woke up the next morning, I didn't want to take a shower, because I wanted to keep that smell with me all day ... but don't worry, I did shower. And as I washed that sweet smell out of my hair, I had to remind myself that there will be more campfires, and more friends, and I can't hold onto them forever. This life is one that needs to be lived with open hands. Campfires and clear skies are things of beauty, as are good friends and strong coffee. But they are nothing that I can hold onto, as if they were somehow mine. They are things that come into and out of my life, and in order to truly love them, I need to keep a very loose grip on them.

Wow, I really need to get out of this funk.

posted by Krista @ 9:57 AM