SB LACROIX

There are days I’m not sure where anything is going. My head is heavy with a fog that makes it hard to think let alone function. It’s something deep—a complete and total exhaustion of both body and mind. It persists and becomes an uneasiness that affects every thought I have. It grabs ahold of my feet and pulls me down. I wait in that darkness, clinging to shreds of hope. Slowly, it fades into a calm that is not all together peaceful.

I spend time in a room that is filled with books, crystals, and candles. In the windows hang sun catchers and wind chimes. One day, the weather was beautiful, and I had the windows open. The curtains gently fluttered in the breeze as the wind chimes sang. The sun was streaming in the windows, and the sun catchers were twirling in the wind scattering rainbows everywhere. I found myself in a state of complete bliss. My husband walked in, and I attempted to convey my moment of euphoria to him. He looked around and nodded, but he didn’t seem to share my experience. 

I realized other people didn’t see things as I saw them. Perhaps they didn’t find a moment created by a combination of the wind chimes, sun catchers, and a warm breeze to be anything of great value. But to me, that moment was gold. If I could have frozen it in time I would have, and I would revisit it every time I needed to be at peace.

I have come to accept that I experience the world in high definition, in surround sound, in living color, and in extremes. The way in which I view the world is intense, leaving me to feel great agony, yet allows me to find heaven in a moment of wind chimes and rainbows.