On Slow Days

Every day is not the same the way every pair is not a photocopy of each other. Each one day is different from the other in at least a single way.

On some days, you are the source of power to which others connect. You charge them up while you light the entire room for everyone to see until they are sufficient to hold up space for themselves. You go through the door and leave it open behind you so that those who are uncertain about what else to do or where next to go find direction. Sometimes they acknowledge your effort and kindness, other times they forget how they got there and just move on. Anyway, you’re happy to be there.

On these days, you’re a shower of rain. You show up with force and zero hassle and leave a trail that is undeniable to the eyes and the minds of people. You leave nothing untouched.

You’re the retainer. That stronghold that keeps everything in place. One that makes sure nothing falls or fails. And you do it pretty beautifully.

You’re the sunlight. A sprinkle of summer that makes waiting worthwhile in a cold world. Even when you’re despised and not appreciated enough, you remain. To love. To grow. To nurture. To illuminate. To adorn.

You’re the reason. You’re the reason for other reasons. You’re the question through which other questions are asked. You’re the single answer to every troubling question. The single solution to a valley of problems. Everything is easier because you’re there and every heart skips in uncertainty when you’re not around.

You’re the Charm. Your nose is shaped perfectly, sculpting your face into a unique ridge. Your irises are deeply colored and your lashes fall and rise like perfect intonation. You’re all shades of pretty, whether in pink or blue. The custodian of generational beauty and ancestral goodness. The thick hair, the gummy teeth, the bulging eyes, the sparse beards, the brief limbs. The hands with the Midas Touch. Every part of your body, finely arranged by an excellent Creator. Your mind runs like an ocean, there’s nothing too enormous for it to break down.

You are a gift.

On other days, this gift is wrapped in oblivion. Your eyes are blurred with tears and others quickly forget what you’re made of or capable of. You’re deep in the corner of your closet, where your light is the dimmest. You cannot get out of bed without your whole life flashing through your eyes. You can’t even find the door, much less keep space for others. Nothing seems to be working, hence there’s nothing to be grateful for. You look in the mirror. Your lips are suddenly asymmetrical. Your skin is thick. Your nails are crooked and the acne won’t leave.

The good days seem to have passed by so quickly you must have been unaware of them.

Your life is changing and you’re afraid of it. But what is life if it’s unchanging? What are mountains without the valleys? What are highs if the lows don’t exist? What is bravery and courage if fear isn’t a thing?

What are good, perfect days if bad, rickety days don’t exist? How do you appreciate smooth rides if some roads are not bumpy and rough?

Every day isn’t the same but they each make way for the other and one day, they’ll lead you to your place of rest. They’ll lead you home where everything makes sense.

Relax, it’s just a slow day. It will soon be morning.

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