Meanderings of Memory
My mind is mulling over landscapes in my memory. Places I've been throughout my life. Remembrances of what I was feeling at those times. The most vivid of these remnants came during the quietness of being alone. When I was able to focus on the view, focus on the scene, focus on a process, grasping the concept of living without relying upon the opinions of an outside source.
Walking across the Golden Gate Bridge, feeling the wind, the sun, seeing the view of the hills and mountains, the ships passing below, convertibles zooming by on the highway, tiny dots in the water on surfboards. The camera flashes, the tourists talking, pointing, and posing. The smile never left my face. I was someplace I never thought I'd ever be. California was never a reality to me and here it was in all dimensions. I'd read about the construction of this massive bridge in Richard Halliburton's Complete Book of Marvels when I was 8 years old. There I was standing on a fantasy13 years later.
I thought I had it all then - money, a good job, an awesome apartment in NYC, nice clothes. But I had it all alone. I picked up my cell phone and called my mom, dad, and sister. My excitement meant a lot to me, but meant more if they were able to share it with me. I truely wished they were there to be a part of this discovery. It wasn't meant to be. They were very happy for me, I could tell that through the phone, by the sound of their voices, but this to be my experience alone. After wishes of love and goodbye, I hung up.
The wind picked up and I stood there with my eyes closed and took a deep breath of the ocean air. Far out at sea the clouds were gathering. The sun was still bright on land. I picked up a few rocks and threw them losing track as they disappeared from eyesight. My camera helped capture postcard worthy photos. But I don't need them to remember, because the scenes remain embossed on my soul.
I'm now 25, I'd like to take that journey again. I suspect my current unsure man would find my past's confident boy along the bridge and they'd merge to throw rocks into the sea. I would still call home, still take a deep breath, but this time I would know that I have nothing if I don't have God. For though I am weak, He is strong, and the boy that I once was is broken. Personally the only way to mend my life is through Christ.
I give up, I give in, I let Him be my all. I thank Him.
Walking across the Golden Gate Bridge, feeling the wind, the sun, seeing the view of the hills and mountains, the ships passing below, convertibles zooming by on the highway, tiny dots in the water on surfboards. The camera flashes, the tourists talking, pointing, and posing. The smile never left my face. I was someplace I never thought I'd ever be. California was never a reality to me and here it was in all dimensions. I'd read about the construction of this massive bridge in Richard Halliburton's Complete Book of Marvels when I was 8 years old. There I was standing on a fantasy13 years later.
I thought I had it all then - money, a good job, an awesome apartment in NYC, nice clothes. But I had it all alone. I picked up my cell phone and called my mom, dad, and sister. My excitement meant a lot to me, but meant more if they were able to share it with me. I truely wished they were there to be a part of this discovery. It wasn't meant to be. They were very happy for me, I could tell that through the phone, by the sound of their voices, but this to be my experience alone. After wishes of love and goodbye, I hung up.
The wind picked up and I stood there with my eyes closed and took a deep breath of the ocean air. Far out at sea the clouds were gathering. The sun was still bright on land. I picked up a few rocks and threw them losing track as they disappeared from eyesight. My camera helped capture postcard worthy photos. But I don't need them to remember, because the scenes remain embossed on my soul.
I'm now 25, I'd like to take that journey again. I suspect my current unsure man would find my past's confident boy along the bridge and they'd merge to throw rocks into the sea. I would still call home, still take a deep breath, but this time I would know that I have nothing if I don't have God. For though I am weak, He is strong, and the boy that I once was is broken. Personally the only way to mend my life is through Christ.
I give up, I give in, I let Him be my all. I thank Him.
posted by SirTalksALot at 1/27/2005 09:53:00 AM
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