“Don’t let someone steal your tenderness…

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5, affect, Deschanel, experience, five, hard, heart, influence, life, oclock, quote, randi, somewhere, steal, strickland, tender, tenderness, Zooey

Don’t let someone steal your tenderness. Don’t allow the coldness and fear of others to tarnish your perfectly vulnerable beating heart. Nothing is more powerful than allowing yourself to truly be affected by things. Whether it’s a song, a stranger, a mountain, a rain drop, a tea kettle, an article, a sentence, a footstep…feel it all – look around you. All of this is for you. Take it and have gratitude. Give it and feel love.

- Zooey Deschanel

I love her, and I love this quote.
#wordstoliveby

I think the ability to affect the world, and the people, around you – and to be affected by them – is one of the greatest honors we have as members of this beautiful family called humanity. The fact that another person can influence the person that I am – wow. I consider it a privilege.

Life is a grand adventure and Humanity is gorgeous; Our interaction with both is meant to be communual. We are made to rub off on one another. And we begin to become inhumane the moment we isolate ourselves and fail to see the humanity happening right in front of us.

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steeple of stone. [#its5oclocksomewhere]

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5, drive, driving, five, golden, grass, highway, light, mountain, oclock, pass, peak, randi, ridge, rocky, shadow, shrubs, somewhere, spring, strickland, sun, sunlight, sunroof, tree, valley

April 21st. Saturday. 5pm.
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The sun breaks through the clouds and throws it’s filtered light into the valley to my right. Trees are scattered across the ridge I am following, but the hills below are littered only with small shrubs and tall grass. I make my way west, following the sun as it moves across the sky.

As I climb higher and higher, completley out of the valley now, I follow the route that’s been carved out for me through stone and snow, and blaze my trail across the mountain pass. Golden light falls across the ancient momunments that surround me on every side, and their large shadows are cast across the highway. Stealing a glance up through my open sunroof I catch my breath. The larger-than-life peak of the mountain is literally right there, and I wish I were a passenger so I could reach out my hand and skim the rocky surface laying just beyond my reach.

I can’t imagine being any closer to this steeple of stone and I think about the way something so massive can make me feel both finite and empowered in the same breath. And in each case, always making me feel connected.

What an honor it is to share this gorgeous planet with brothers made not of flesh and bone, but of leaves and water and stone.

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sacred solitude. [#its5oclocksomewhere.]

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5, city, five, lake, mountain, oclock, randi, silence, solitude, somewhere, spring, strickland, sun, sunroof, sunshine, view

Friday. April 20th. 5pm.
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I ease my foot off the gas and let my car slow to a steady crawl as I wind my way up the mountain. Joggers and walkers and grandmas with their grandkids and pet owners with their dogs. All making the steady accent to the top with me. It’s a goregous spring day and my sunroof is wide open. I look up, over the rim of my sunglasses, and let the sunlight roll over my face.

My friends thought I was running a quick errand and returning in 20 minutes to the coffee shop when we were all gathered. But that was before I found the side road with the sign, “To the top of the mountain” at it’s entrance. Who can pass up a sign like that? And why would you want to?

As I round the final curve to the left and pull into the gravel parking lot, the view is already well worth the spontaneity, and I haven’t even gotten out of my car yet. Coming to the limp rope that marks the edge of the parking lot, I step over it and find a large, flat rock, warmed by an afternoon of baking in the sun. I cross my legs and take a seat, wondering about the countless others that have done the same. The sun still sits high in the sky, and below me the valley shines like a bowl of diamonds – bright light reflecting off of windows and signs and the tops of buildings. The city sits on the banks of a large lake, and the water lays lazily in the warmth of the day. I close my eyes and realize, though the city looks so large from my perch on the mountain, I can’t hear even one of it’s sounds from way up here. Instead, the birds nested in the trees behind me create the soundtrack for this moment, as they mix with the sound of running shoes on pavement and the purr of slow-moving car engines and of two friends laughing together at they walk further up the trail.

Sitting there with my eyes closed I smile, knowing there’s not a soul on the planet that knows I’m here right now. And for some reason, that makes me feel even more connected to this place. Like my presence here is a secret that we share. I take in the details of this moment and add it to the catalouge of experiences that shape the person I am, even though they aren’t shared with anyone but myself and the earth beneath my bare feet.

And it is perfect.

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sometimes life doesn’t need a commentary. [#its5oclocksomewhere]

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5, ambulance, baloon, biker, bird, boy, coffee, commentary, cyclist, five, life, oclock, randi, sidewalk, somewhere, strickland

Thursday. April 19th. 5pm.
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An ambulance drives by. I can’t hear the sirens because my headphones are in, but the flashing lights are a dead giveaway. A cyclist has dismounted from his bike and sits at one of the tables outside. One by one, several others join him and I wonder if they realize how silly they all look, wrapped in tight bright yellow clothing, walking awkwardly on special shoes that makes their toes sit several inches higher than their heels, and still wearing their helmets and intense biker sunglasses. Seriously, they look ridiculous – are they aware, I wonder? Walking by on the brick-inlaid sidewalk, a rough looking gentleman, maybe in his 60s, carries a bag full of cans and pop bottles and stops at every pay-parking machine checking for unclaimed coins. When he stops to talk to a young woman, sitting and smoking alone at a table, she just laughs and he keeps walking.

The sky is quickly changing from pale blue to dull grey, but the constant stream of people outside my window doesn’t flinch. Beyond my music I can hear the prevailing sound of coffee grinders, and the smell of the freshly broken beans keep me from forgetting where I am; like a salt stick waved under my nose, unconscious thought remains impossible. The trees that line both sides of the street are wrapped in lights and their white twinkle is becoming more and more visible, as dusk slowly prepares the way for evening. A group of women, and one man they seemed to have dragged along, go power-walking by, dressed to the nines in Lulu Lemon and talking as fast as they’re walking, while the man just smiles and nods. Walking in the opposite direction, a little boy tags along behind a group of grownups, his eyes lifted to the blue balloon he carries with him, the string clutched in his tiny hands. Birds fly in lazy circles overhead and I wonder what the view is like from up there.

Today I have lots to see and little to say.
Sometimes life doesn’t need a commentary.

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the contours of his body. [#its5oclocksomewhere.]

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5, alive, back, body, content, contour, five, fulfilled, happy, horse, life, muslces, oclock, rain, randi, somewhere, spring, stable, tin roof, vibrant, vitality

Wednesday. April 18th. 5pm.
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I slide my hand along the contour of his back. The muscles under my palm are large and solid. They twitch and quiver, recovering for the previous hour’s exertion. Bringing my hand to the side of his face, we make eye contact and I wonder what he thinks of me as he turns his head away. Some call it crazy, and others call it useless. But I swear, those big, black eyes of his can see me. The fact that some sort of connection can be made between the two of us still blows my mind. But him and I, though vastly different, are both expressions of life. And that, if nothing else, deserves to be honored.

The door behind us swings freely on it’s hinges, opening and closing on the wings of the wind. Rain has begun to fall on the metal roof above, the sound of a million tiny tin soldiers marching into battle. Spring spins and twirls in the air and I inhale the smell of life. I let it fill my nostrils, plummet down the back of my windpipe and explode in my lungs with all of the vitality and essence that it can muster.

The horse beside me snorts and I watched as he playfully flaps his lips. He butts me in the shoulder with his nose and slides his face close to mine. I smile and press my forehead to his. Rubbing the puff of white in the spot between his eyes I laugh, “See Rupert, I knew you liked me.”

If life were to boil down to this one moment, you could bury me in the ground and return my body to the earth as one happy woman. Because if right here, and right now, isn’t enough – what ever would be?

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