Thursday, June 21, 2012

Remain seated with your seat belts fastened

I pack my bags with the necessary items I will need for a trip: clothes, shoes, toiletries, my mac book pro, and the occasional DVD to keep me entertained on the plane. As I planned out what to bring with me for my trip, I couldn’t help but reflect on what I DIDN’T want to bring. When you travel to a new city, outside of your everyday rituals, you want to be new. Funny thing is, when I go back to Chicago, I become the old. I’m the girl who’s super comfortable in her own skin. I become the woman who speaks her mind without worry of people misunderstanding her intentions. It takes a lot of heartache and fighting for people to understand you and know what the core of you is. I packed the happy-go-lucky attitude and placed it carefully on top of the hurt and confusion I guess I’m bringing along. I don’t bring this for my own entertainment, but so I can show it to my best friends and see if they can make sense of how I need to alter it so it CAN fit in my life. I don’t want to leave it behind because it’s just going to still be there when I come back to my apartment. I want it out, so I can go back and bring it renewed. Tucked away and rolled up at the bottom of my suitcase is wonder. My discernment of what the next step is, is secured within as to not be damaged by all the crazy handling of the luggage as I push and pull it around. Now I’m thousands of feet high above the sky, having left the security of the solid ground beneath me. Instead I’m soaring through the sky, susceptible to the danger and free fall that is risked along with this trip. Soar, Maricris. It’s the risk you take, baggage and all. I don’t understand what happened before I left but why does it feel unsettling? I don’t expect an essay of text messages once I turn my phone on upon landing. Rather, I expect more hurt and disappointment for the failure to acknowledge that I had packed and left. I’m usually not this honest in my blogs, but let’s be real talk. These are thoughts anyone would think but not a lot of people would admit to out loud – or in this case, in writing. The clouds can be in different forms: dark and thick or light and fluffy. Regardless, I’m above it and can only hope it will clear so I can get back on solid ground with a ray of sunshine hitting my face. Let it remind me that there is always hope after the dark. As I roll my luggage, unpack my troubles and self-confidence, I’ll find myself in a world where everybody knows my name.

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