I long for thoughts free of excess noise pollution - the tranquility that is simplicity. I exhale deeply as I close my eyes to shut out brain chatter and beckon forward something, anything soothing. What trickles in isn't made of words strung together and hung outside, but of warm blankets freshly stolen from the dryer. And soon enough, I'm wrapped snugly in tension-muffling memories.
Sunrays hug me from the front and leather seats from behind as the steady, nautical sway of a Caddy lulls me half to sleep. Idling inside is not only the engine, but also the humility illuminated by sharing an observational silence with someone who understands things the majority of people never will. A chilly splash of salty water tugs me from one nostalgic remembrance to the next. I shoot a stare just as cold at the one who dare get my hair wet. Unbeknownst to all, the 30-second state of grumpiness isn’t due to fear of getting wet, but to the low prospect of my locks falling “the pretty way” as they dry. A stern face has never been my favorite mask, but if it gives way to the flash of that smirk trailed by a captivating and triumphant laugh, it will always be worthwhile.
A drafty window from reality disrupts my daydream; the disheartening thought of coming to and facing paragraphs upon paragraphs about the geographical distribution of Phaeocystis blows in and tenses my shoulders. Instead, I willingly digress back into my mollifying reverie.
My head rests on white linen and with sanguine surprise I open sleepy eyes to the familiar weave of a dreamcatcher. The smile that creeps onto my face carries me to another place where the sturdy feel of a hardwood floor slides beneath my sock feet; toe, heel, toe, heel, I slink down the steps towards open arms. A one-sided, closed-mouth grin tells me I’m not the only one who's come to realize that butterflies really do exist in the pits of grown-ups’ stomachs. I shy my head and drop my gaze in an attempt to hide the palpable schoolgirl enchantment. When I look up, I see rho, sigma, and phi back in front of me, but this time the tasks appear a little less daunting. Clearly, lightheartedness is an infectious cure for the pathetic problems of a modern-day mind.
So, here’s a toast to the hope that my uncontrollable giggle-fits will always provoke your smile.
