Journal: Born and Raised

Note: I foolishly came across an old email today that chagrined me. Thankfully writing this while listening to John Mayer’s ‘Born and Raised’ has somehow grounded me and made me feel better. Amen.

6 June, 2015

I woke up today and had a yogurt smoothie and I then I did the dishes.

After reading on the sand nearby, I walked to the library, where I volunteered for the afternoon and bought a few books.

After a run, I had dinner and took Thomas Moore’s Care of The Soul down to the water where I watched the evening pass into night.

And now I watch the lights shimmer upon the water’s surface. And I think of the night ahead: Ill bake scrumpets (Anyone who comments asking for the recipe shall receive it) and read. Then a spiritual documentary before bed, where I will think of the near future. Soon I’ll be closer.

Soon I’ll have a place in El-Lay that I’ll pace, barefoot in my jeans, shirtless, watching my records spin.

And maybe I’ll have no one to invite over. And that’s okay. I’ll have a garden to tend to; a soul that lives on books and prayer and solitude near the water’s edge. I’ll cook dinner and I’ll receive emails. I’ll stretch and look at the ceiling, happy, hoping my red Persian rug covers the floor where my children will play. And I’ll go to sleep marveling at the wonder, instead of just wondering, because thou mayest.

And I’ll awake to a vanilla sky and look over at my Count of Monte Cristo poster, handsome in it’s frame. And I’ll get out of bed after reciting my gratitudes and my creed. Maybe I’ll shower, maybe I won’t.

And I’ll make a yogurt smoothie. And I’ll go to the gym, and I’ll stop at the bookstore after. And I’ll buy a t-shirt at The Promenade. And I’ll go home, and I’ll write over cold steak. And I’ll call my mom. And I’ll listen to Simon and Garfunkel, or maybe Peter Gabriel, and I’ll shower. And I’ll get ready for my date. And we will talk about our days and our careers. And we’ll come back to my place for gelato and a movie. And we will make love. And I’ll be born and raised.

p.s. If you don’t keep a journal, do your soul a favor and start one. It’s an absolutely wonderful balm for the spirit.

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