As a long time fan of using any and all car rides to let the rhythm of music flood the car at socially unacceptable levels, this drive was no different. Pulling in to the driveway of the place I’ve called home, after a lingering round of goodbyes at college, Ride by Twenty One Pilots happened to be the song on shuffle. And maybe it was the insanely easy to get stuck-in-your-head vibe of all things Twenty One Pilots, or the recent resurfacing of the song during a school event, or just the way the lyrics resonated in the moment. But right then, I knew this song was signaled the beginning of summer.
Oh I’m falling so I’m taking my time on my ride.
Tonight, fireworks in sparkling bursts are fading into the sky from my desk window view. And it feels fitting to revisit that song, those lyrics, and try to unravel some of the massive themes of change that have hit recently.
It’s been a long road. Unpredictable, terrifyingly unknown, decidedly unsettled. When it seems like the only thing you can count on is that nothing is certain, it makes you look at things in a whole new light. With all of these revelations, I had strong ideas about what directions I’d be heading right now.
Because of course, in the constant reality v. expectations war otherwise known as my life, I’d figured by now I would have unleashed thousands of words. Started creating lots of stories and pulling ideas from the scattered collections of lessons, started curating more gems and increased my writing. Or even, have just started doing something. Anything.
Summer means uninterrupted hours of time to dive deeper, to read more perspectives which widens your own. Yet one full length story, ten + half written stories, a handful of various inspiration strikes in note form, and a half dozen images later, it’s all still buried deep.
Much of life has been that way.
And I’ve been thinking too much about me, lost in my own bubble and unsteady to proceed. My overworked mind and under opened heart are learning to balance it. To let beauty come in, but to not rush the complicated layers of expectation and ideals that have to be pulled back. To take time on the ride, because we are once in a lifetime and it’s a gloriously magical life we’ve each been handed. To learn to live fully in the moment for what it is, even if it’s not at all the picture you’d waited for.
I don’t know what this summer looks like for you. What future you are walking into, what goals you’ve fluidly inked out in black, what worries race obssesively around your mind, what ways your heart has cracked and spilled and drained and how you are carrying that with you. But can I tell you this:
it is perfectly okay to not be “okay”, however you define that.
It is perfectly okay to realize that some things you have to sit with, not continually try to pull out.
It is perfectly okay to take your time, something we as humans tend to run from as a whole, to let change work its way through you gradually.
It is perfectly okay to just keep doing the next right thing, at your own pace.
It is perfectly okay to put aside the lists, to reduce them to the basics, to just let yourself live and experience all that comes with it – the varying shades of pain + joy and stillness + explosions.
Sometimes the granduer of life with its suprising flashes in twists and turns, the vibrant intensity of color like fireworks, the experiences that layer themselves onto the walls of your heart, makes you forget.
Forget that it’s been the still moments of coffee and silence, hands wrapped around a vibrant red mug declaring hope is the anthem, until you believe it again.
Of moments going through the pictures, to replay all that happened.
Of the seconds you put down some words, patiently piecing details into stories.
Of messages going back and forth screens, being real about life right now.
So here’s to letting the stories out when you’re ready to share them, because they’re too important to hold in forever.
To being okay with things not being okay.
To reflecting but not always thinking too much.
To reveling in the less impressive times, because that’s where life happens.
Here’s to taking your time on your ride.