Unwound

Something in me, something knotted tight and anxious, unwound this weekend. Just like that.  What felt like a twisted tight spring now feels free and easy like ribbons.  I don't know what it was but it's gone. Good riddance, I say.

Was it being with my people? Was it spending leisurely, languishing, laughing hours with my mom, dad, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins?

Was it thinking about my particular path and sharing it publicly in a setting where all the different, diverse paths were honored + not dichotomized?

Was it listening to the symphony play Mahler's 5th Symphony (my cousin playing the bass in the orchestra)? Or sitting next to my 90-year-old grandfather while he tenderly wiped his eyes?

Was it reading East of Eden? I finished it last night on the plane and sat cradling it to my chest for many minutes, thinking over its mastery (oh, the envy) and Steinbeck's celebration of "that glittering instrument, the human soul."

Was it sitting across from friends, both newly made and long held, sharing stories and souls?

Was it hours of thinking time staring out the airplane window with the perspective you only get from 30,000 miles in the air (and no, no one asked to sit on my lap)?

Yes, yes, and yes.  Whatever it was, I'm grateful.

And it was coming home, too, where part of my heart was waiting for me:

Video found via GwenBell

Sappy but true