In Tune

When we are in tune with ourselves, everything around us just seems to sound better... but how does it happen?

It's that inner peace we all struggle to achieve.
The right page when we always seem to be one ahead or two behind.
The self acceptance that some how inevitably gets interrupted by self doubt and insecurities.

But maybe it can all come together. Maybe our emotions are in-sync, and the soundtrack finally fits the day it lands on.

It's a perfect symphony that took years of patient, gentle, careful practice, fine tuning, and the right timing to get all the sounds to harmonize.

It is no accident. It is no coincidence.
It is the result of patience, persistence, hope, and love.

I finally hear this beautiful melody, and I don't think my ears will ever tire of the sound.

The descent

Sundays will forever hold a special place in my heart.
Between blue-skied boat days with Dad, and sitting around the Pflug's dinner table with the only real family I've ever known, it easily became my favorite day of the week.
Today is the first Sunday of September, and everything feels so right outside this morning. . .

There's a bird that keeps circling around the biggest tree in my backyard. The limbs of it keep wiggling in the wind, and I watch as he let's himself fall into the breeze and ride it; wings spread taking in this new September air.

It's that moment of calm I felt yesterday that made me smile as I hoped it would become I feeling I might come to know more often. It was during my bike ride; the leisurely, casual bike ride I couldn't resist taking down to Princeton when I walked out with my keys in my hand and saw my beg practically begging for me in the sunlight.

It's funny how much further away that Starbucks became with a heavy bag slung over my shoulder, humidity sticking my denim to my legs, and the undeniable fact that there were suddenly a lot more hills en route than I remember.

 Ok, so maybe there weren't, but my legs and my shortness of breath were evident that I really could have just taken the drive with the windows down.

Forty-five minutes later, I parked my bike at Starbucks. I put myself together in the bathroom, and promised myself to enjoy my coffee, and my lunch plans, and not spend the day dreading the ride home.

I didn't.
I actually forgot about it until saying goodbye, and trying to recall the combination for my lock. I started off with my ipod, switched hip-hop for Dave, and took my time pedaling to the music.

Before the end of " Crash," I realized the whole ride was downhill.

I flipped my sunglasses down and held my arms out, palms up, and let my legs enjoy the rest and put my smile to work.

That was it. . .

My whole life, I've been fighting and struggling up that hill. For years, life made it so steep I thought I'd start slipping backward; I stood up and pedaled stronger.

In the lull between inclines, I inadvertently cranked up my gears to keep that challenge, to maintain my momentum, to motivate myself through the next push.

Somewhere during those years of innocence, I stopped looking for the top; I couldn't. I think a part of me forgot that it might exist, and just hoped I would have the energy to fight another day, every day. One day stronger, one day closer, to something that I never even knew, but I couldn't wait to experience; the end of the climb.

Here it is.

Suddenly, I'm coasting through and instead of focusing on the climb, I can finally enjoy this ride. 

Today, feels different. The sky, yep, still blue.

My stomach is already growling for dinner at the Pflugs.

 And it will be, yet another Sunday, with no boat, and no Dad. 

But today, finally, that feels...ok.

I made it to the other side, and I know that today is his gift to me to tell me how proud he is for chugging along with out him. Today, is the most beautiful Sunday because it begins my descent, and it's leading me to love;It's leading me home.

Listen with all your heart

Most people are pretty active when they engage in conversation. It is in that nod- along-and-pretend-to-understand sort of way, that so many of us do with out even realizing it. Our minds are so preoccupied creating these menial, mental post-it notes that, before any talking even takes place, our mind's are already elsewhere.

I was well aware of this before I started bartending, but three years later, my acknowledgment to people's inability to listen has grown from a casual realization, to a potential epidemic.

We all want to be heard, right? Yet how often we interrupt, revert conversation to ourselves, change the subject, or completely disregard and ignore what someone is trying to say?

 It's really easy to hear someone, but when was the last time you listened? Really listened to some one attempting to put their life experience into verbiage. It's not an easy thing to do, and I always admire the attempt. Whether it's a lonely person behind a beer bottle, or the manager of Jiffy Lube desperate to share the story of his friend's battle with cancer. We're all so busy listening to our busy brains, we miss so many moments to let some one be heard.

You know because you realize that people hear you all day, but you have an exhausted feeling of competing for words; competing to put in your thoughts and opinions.

There's an amazing silence between sentences. An understanding between words, between breaths. A gentle acceptance exchanged with out any verbal agreement. Offering your thoughts and emotions to someone because they're listening. It's a comfort that not many people get the chance to enjoy, or worse, perhaps they do daily, but they take those volunteered ears for granted.

But when it's mutual; when two people really dedicate themselves to listening, an amazing relationship is instantly born. I think it's called listening with your heart. . .
It is an inherently rare quality, but there are some out there that posses it.

 The catch is, you have to be listening with your heart too, or you won't hear anything....

When you do, suddenly, the competition has diminished. The awkward dance of dressing up your words to try to interest someone is over. You've found someone that doesn't hear your words, they listen.

It's like they've decoded your language, and suddenly you can't help but tell them all your secrets that have been aching to be heard.

Because at the end of the day... aren't we all just aching to be heard?