This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine...

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Scavenging Stories

The idea of being in the right place at the right time has been on my mind lately. I tend to romanticize everyday events more than most. I turn daily occurrences into stories in real time. I don't know what that says about my future, but it does make the passing time more interesting to experience. I like to think that the universe is leaving me hints on a trail, or clues on the scavenger hunt of who I am to become.

There is a likeness of Gandhi spray painted on a wall on my route to the train which reminds me to accept nothing less than I deserve. It reminds me too, to make as much art as possible and to create, because the world needs our creativity to be beautiful and efficient.
Some neighborhood dweller leaves inexplicable foam letter messages stuck to mailboxes and light posts occasionally. Both of the most recent installments have happened on my block. The lettering on the mailbox said "You are the bluest" in blue foam block letters. They come off rapidly, leaving only the double sided tape strips that stuck them up in the first place. The light post received a message vertically, directly in front of my building exit, which said "She looks white to me" in white. At the time I was simply perplexed. What's the meaning? What's the statement? What's the point? Is there a specific audience?
I don't really expect these messages are directed at me, or that they have anything to do with anything I can imagine, but I do like to imagine. I like to imagine these messages are left to perplex and that my placement and timing are in sync with what plans the future has for me. I can imagine they are speaking to me in some way and that satisfies my need to know I'm heading in the right direction.

Do I believe in fate? Do I believe everything happens for a reason? They aren't easy questions to answer. They are loaded questions, at times, too. They call up ideas about what is "deserved" and questions about events that occur. I tend to think on a level of archetypal motives that doesn't jive with experiencing tragedy up close.

These questions do not always need to be a part of my minute to minute experience however. I allow myself quite a lot of time for story realm existence. My imagination has become more insistent lately as well. Every moment is an opportunity for a story about something that may carry no importance; but maybe I'm exercising my mind to be ready for possibilities. I like to think that I'm teaching myself what I need by living in this imagination realm.

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