Being a Wild Lavender

They say distance makes your heart grow fonder. They don’t say what else it does to you. They seldom talk about the helplessness that comes with goodbyes or about the fear that looms before goodbyes. They never talk about the blinding pain and the gripping vacuum that comes with walking back in to your quiet, undisturbed apartment. They never even mention about the empty absoluteness that rocks you through sleepless nights. They don’t care to mention that your heart will long to turn back time or to jump a few years ahead. And why would they mention about the wails and the tears that never reach an others ear, that the white silent walls absorbs them all. Even with millions of people speeding past you, you can feel utter lonesomeness. That cooking each day and every day for no one but yourself will cause you to feel blank now and then. That looking at the world you created has no meaning without a certain few. That this to and fro of being and not is too much for the heart to take. That distance makes your heart grow fonder but it also aches so badly every time the goodbye is said.

We are told these feelings will thaw-out, that out of sight means, at least eventually, out of mind, but what about those that don’t run for cover, to a book, another person or a chore. What about those that can’t seek cover despite the book, another person or a chore. While I think about all this, with a hint of indignation I also wonder why “reality” is not the same as the vacation you take. Why do we give ourselves only chunks of time to live our hearts desires out? Why does it always seem as if the desire to want this one thing keeps you from enjoying anything else?

And just like that perspectives change. I can’t run for cover from my feelings. I long to do it, but I cannot; so I sit with it in the empty room of white and wait for it to disappear or take another shape. It takes the shape of my body. I become aware of it and of my individuality. Unlike a gardener’s flowers that need tending to and careful attention I remember the wild lavenders on the expressways I’ve taken in some parts of the world. Like the wild lavenders, beautiful and free I experience my heart grow bigger and compassionate. I realize that the love of a certain few amplifies your love for yourself. I also remember that every alone-moment gives me the freedom to be more of myself-free from the potter’s hand or by the wheel I was spun in. Distance makes your heart grow fonder and it also aches so badly every time a goodbye is said. But distance also gives you a new lease on life, even if you don’t want it to, right now. Distance gives you a chance to know that life does not have to be lived in a few chucks of time or with the hope that only this desire needs fulfillment.