Monday, June 15, 2009

There's A Light

Tonight I baked a birthday cake for Josh and took it to him. Me and Josh and Peter ate cake, joked around, and watched TV, and when I walked home later, I had a nice peaceful feeling. Broadway at night is illuminated by street-lamps, shops, the moon, head-lights, fire-truck lights, lights from apartment windows, a Cuban restaurant, the light of the 1 train on its steel elevated track, and the light of a dozen candles burning around the photo of a boy who must have died somewhere nearby. I watched the fire-truck roll into the station. I saw churches with their windows and doors gated and barred. I saw a bakery with beautiful cakes inside--more beautiful than my lopsided creation. I saw a man getting shaved in a barbershop. Kids played basketball on the sidewalk.

I thought about my friends both far and near. I thought about one friend who has been going through a very hard time. He called me last Saturday and we talked for an hour and eleven minutes, and I think I cried the entire time. Not because he made me sad, but because I want so much for him to be happy. I want him to know that he is loved, that he lives in a wonderful world, and that there are amazing things in his future. I want him to know what I know, and for him to be able to see how beautiful the world is around him, even amidst turmoil. So I've been thinking about him a lot. And thinking about the things that really matter in life, like family and friends and doing good. I'm so thankful for what I have and what I know. I'm thankful for the peace that I can feel even in the middle of stress. I think talking helped him. He called again yesterday and sounded so much better.

I don't know where I'm going to live in two weeks--I don't know what my immediate future holds for me, but I know that it's going to be okay, wherever it is and whoever it's with. It must be a gift to be able to see the light in the darkness of night, because I know that not everyone does. And though I sometimes complain about the light being dim, or sometimes even turn away from it, I know there is always a light. It guides my path. I know which streets to walk down and which to avoid. And I know that before long, "the sun will rise, the day will come, and we'll be found."* The thing about night is that it doesn't last forever. It's heartbreakingly beautiful, it's scary, it's temporary.

*words of wisdom from The Avett Brothers

No comments: