It happens every now and again. A breath will fill my lungs, the world becomes clear, and I am in awe, struck with joy by the simplest of moments. A lone snowflake falling like glitter to the ground, the weight of my books in my backpack, the way the trees stand so tall, stubbornly waiting for spring. Sometimes I still can’t believe I’m actually here. I wasn’t supposed to be here, you know. I was supposed to stay at the comfortable cubicle job that everyone told me to be grateful for. To get married. To never leave. I was supposed to have that baby. I was supposed to be a drop out. This wasn’t supposed to happen, the scholarships, the travel, the exploration. This cold mountain air on my face, this peace in my heart, this body that has felt such joy. Sometimes I still can’t believe I’m here. That I am a student. That I am free. That I get to learn, and push, and write, and dance, and feel true, raw love. That I get to be a scientist, that I have the privilege of time. Because, man, I have felt fear. I have felt pain so hot I still find embers under my skin. Because I’ll be honest, that teenager I once was didn’t believe any of this could happen to someone like me. Or maybe the truth is, maybe the magic is, she always did.
Photo by Benjamin Dunn. Blue Ridge Parkway, North Carolina.