Alex and I love going on drives and checking out little townships within Ontario. This weekend he had the urge to show me the cottage he went to as a child. The two-hour drive was the perfect way to start off the day. Nothing relaxes me like new scenery, a car ride, and great music.
With the cool breeze coming off Georgian Bay and the sun on our backs, we walked the beach and skipped rocks like children. We walked the trails and absorbed everything that is wonderful about NOT being in an office for the day. I cannot wait for summer days in the city or long drives up at Alex’s family camper, or even exploring new townships and cities within our beautiful province.
I really wish that there were weeks made up entirely of Saturdays; the calmness in knowing that all twenty-four hours belongs to you. The wonder in what you can do with that time, the happiness in understanding that you worked hard all week and deserve some R&R.
I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, “This is what it is to be happy.” ― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
This week’s word of the week comes from the ARC of the very latest Flavia de Luce Novel, As Chimney Sweepers Come to Dust. Given the character traits of her bookworm sister, Daffy, I tend to learn a few new words every time I read a de Luce novel.
I chose the word tableau even though I’m familiar with it simply because as I ran errands the other day, and got lost in my own head, the world around me stopped. People walking dogs, cars rolling through stop signs, birds in mid-flight. They all stopped, paused, perched in their current state as I sat in my car, thinking long and hard about life choices.
As I jumped out of my own head and looked at the stillness that surrounded me, I realized that each paused person had their own story, one that could be read from the way they walked, the look in their eyes, or the wrinkle on their brow. When I parked my car with one hand on the wheel, the other hand on my lap, my body hunched over my steering wheel slightly, the world begin moving once again and I stopped. My turn to be the tableau, to tell the world everything I felt through the stillness of my body, the frozen expression on my face. I wonder if anyone noticed.
“You are twenty. You are not dead, although you were dead. The girl who died. And was resurrected. Children. Witches. Magic. Symbols. Remember the illogic of the fantasy. The strange tableau in the closet behind the bathroom: the feast, the beast, and the jelly-bean. Recall, remember: please do not die again. Let there be continuity at least – a core of consistency – even if your philosophy must be always a moving dynamic dialectic. The thesis is the easy time, the happy time. The antithesis threatens annihilation. The synthesis is the consummate problem.”
— Sylvia Plath (The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath)
** Tableau photo from BCSS Drama website, I did not take the photo.**
“After nineteen years of running after good marks and prizes and grants of one sort and another, I was letting up, slowing down, dropping clean out of the race.” – The Bell Jar
Is that me? Have I dropped out of the race because I’m content or am I running with my dreams and goals? Are we finally at the same speed? Taking the same strides? Are we running towards each other? Are we meeting somewhere in the middle?
I feel as though all of this blogging and writing and reading and studying is slowly leading somewhere. I feel like I’m running at the perfect pace — I’m not sprinting, I’m actually enjoying each moment of this journey. And what about my dreams? They’re running alongside me, keeping up, staying close enough for me to see them but allowing me to take the lead, just by a little.
We’ll reach the finish line together and walk across hand-in-hand — me and my dreams.
Me and my DREAMS..