A few words for you
Today is probably going to be another one of those days where I’m sitting behind my computer for an unbearable number of hours, just trying to get all my work done.
Plus, I’m making time to write these lines now, which feels important and urgent to care for my soul today, but these minutes count towards the screen-time, too. It’s 8:45 am and the sun is shining.
You and I just said goodbye in front of my favorite local bakery. Brötsüchtig. Bread-addicted. Hooked on bread. (Is that how you would translate it?) Yes, I am in love with their organic loafs. The soft aromatic insides and hard crusty perfect outer shell. They know how to do bread right. They do bread right.
As if there is a right and a wrong way to do anything, I think to myself. It’s a statement and a question. Is there a right or wrong way to do anything? Sometimes I am convinced there is not, while other times it feels entirely otherwise.
Is it wrong to wage war? Or to make bad bread? My moralism, should-ism, and probably all the other ‘ism’s I have tell me it is. And yet its all been happening, since time immortal. Does that make it okay?
Is there a right or wrong way to do you and me? Can I write that? Is this possible? What will be the consequences of each word I type on this (no longer blank) page? What am I creating with them? Will I share too much, or not enough, or make your heart skip a beat with each (not so) carefully chosen line?
Why is it that when I’m with someone I can’t stop this incessant wondering if this person will finally be ‘the one’? What does ‘the one’ mean anyway? The one I decide to spend my life with, miserable, like so many seem to? And what does it mean if this person is just one of many ‘ones’? Will I need to pick up the pieces of myself, broken off the floor, once again someday? Or will all be well in Chelsea-land, come what may?
Will you still see me as spring? Or was that just a temporary blip in the space-time continuum, a minute defect that allowed me (amazingly) to catch a glimpse of a sweet alternate reality, formerly unbeknownst to me?
Am I better off than I was before, when I didn’t have so much experience in love under my belt? Maybe every moment, come what may, only serves to make me stronger, wiser, and more grounded in truth. Whatever that is.
Now it’s time to start the workday. I feel like I need to push the poet in me aside, when all she wants to do is get out and be free, love and be loved and make music, art, and poetry.
I have a sense that my heart is swollen, on the verge of exploding ❤️ 💥
So, these are some lines I wrote on this page. My coffee in between me and the keyboard. A phone next to me lights up with some words next to your name. I smile. I feel teary-eyed. What else will this day, this life bring?
Will you share some words from your day with me in the comments? Or ❤️ this post, if you like it?
Lovingly,
Chelsea
There are so many vague "You"s expressed in your text and I don't know how you mean them, actually. But I project myself into all of them. So these words feel to be spoken directly to me and I feel the urge to respond. Reading the heading of this post and the first paragraphs makes the impression that these words are for you, Chelsea-you, and I'm very glad that you shared them.
Immediately, I also feel the question if I'm reading this text in the right way. Am I? I can't do it in any other way and thinking too much about it will probably lead to not writing anything. So here we are.
I too, find myself wondering about questions like: Who are you to me? What am I to you? And: What is this incredible pleasant feeling that takes over my whole being and that is wanting me to spend all the time I have with you?
I'm afraid of losing myself to this feeling although I'm purely enjoying it. I'm afraid of wanting too much too fast and to lose my grounding while riding on these soft clouds that may turn into rain and thunderstorm at every moment. And at the same time I feel like every heartbreak, every last drop of despair that passed through my life so far has prepared me exactly for this, for you and for all that will come.
The early spring will turn into real spring, into never ending summer days, into fallen leaves and finally into cold and dark nights before the cycle repeats itself with the seeds that had fallen into earth before, growing and blossoming in a new and changed cycle. For me there won't be that "one" season that will carry me for a lifetime, but there is this one process (called life?) that I can be committed to. So I guess there is a kind of right and wrong during the playful acts of this process, but it's never making the whole process right or wrong. It is just what it is.
And for now, I am quite grateful about how it is. About how me manage to be so open and close to each other for this short time we've already had, about how we make so much of so little. I'm happy to experience you living and I'm happy to take part and being effected by it. And I'd love to continue it in that way.
I see ourselves walking together, through areas for which we have some kind of map to orientate, through big open roads and also through not well treaded-down paths. I see ourselves walking on ways we don't know and doubting if they are really walkable. And I see ourselves carrying a light-weight backpack with all the tools we need to find ways through every kind of terrain. Sometimes we may know exactly what to do and what to use, sometimes we have to be creative and find ways to combine different tools, and sometimes we just sit or turn around.
But we walk and we walk ways.
That's all I want to say to you.
With Love,
Stefan
I love you, Chelsea! And I love that even though I know you don't mean me when you say "you", I picture myself leaving your favourite hooked on bread bakery together.
Beautiful expression by both of you gifted writers, thank you!