A Mighty Wind

by Emily Gresham

The musings of a self-proclaimed StarChild:Oh how the soul needs the body! How strange it is to keep so many memories and thoughts and feelings inside a tiny heart. They become tangled there and then grow that way-beautifully, strangely, painfully. The following are a few musings of one girl inside such a body.

She keeps a bucket list- but it changes so often that she no longer has a clue what is on it. In her dreams, she is many things. She is the leader in protecting the Rhinos from poachers, she is volunteering in the favelas of Brazil, she is traveling with her soul mate, she is a mother. She chooses to think of her dreams as visualizations, one day hopefully manifesting themselves through self-love.

She wants to give everyone a chance- which later makes it difficult in the dating world. But how magnificent it is to watch people evolve when they are given affection and trust! They bloom like lovely flowers on the first day of spring. And oh, how she loves flowers! All of them- every size, color, type. Every scent. Of course, lavender will always be her favorite.

She keeps a lavender satchel on her pillow, and one in her feminine drawer. She has 100% lavender body soap, as well as essential oil. It reminds her to try and let go of all the human baggage that is so unnecessary.

On the days she feels her best, she falls to her knees in awe of what heaven will feel like. She embraces age because she believes it brings her one day closer to God. She thinks it dreadful she is stuck in a world where society is trying to be younger, act younger, look younger. Age has grace and beauty. She will always believe that.

She often muses over things humans attach so much importance to, including herself. Looks- peer acceptance- money- and finds it ironic that these are what nature and animals attach the least importance to. How did things get so turned around?
On the days she feels strong- Ann Kennedy strong- she fights for what is right. She fights for love and forgiveness and acceptance- the three most powerful tools, in her opinion.

On the days she feels weak, she prays. For herself. For the world. For the pain. For her pain. When she finds herself in situations she is not comfortable with, she tries her hardest to forgive herself and does the best with where she’s at. If everyone were to forgive themselves, she muses, the world would be a much more delightful and easygoing place.

She muses about a lot of things, and had given herself the title of Queen of the Musers. She has also been The Seashell Queen, Moon Princess, Duchess of Sunshine, and StarChild.

She is annoyed at times that she has to drive a car. Her favorite form of transportation would be a horse or an elephant- but as both of those are unrealistic and annoying to the animal- she attempts to use her bike instead.

Oh, how horses remind her of him. Of his flaming red, golden hair. Of his smile and easy laugh. Of the way he fit her like a puzzle piece. Of how his hand felt curled around her small fingers. Of when they road through the California mountains together on horseback, staying at B&B’s- making love anywhere and everywhere. Taking too many pictures, drinking too much wine, sitting by the creek hand in hand without a care in the world. He could do that to her- make her forget everything and just love, love, love till her jaw hurt from smiling. Till happiness oozed from her pores and she moaned when they made love in the moonlight. Till she wondered what it would be like to spend her forever with him.

Thousands of miles apart now, worlds apart, memories lost, she sends her love to him quietly and moves on. Days have turned into weeks, which have turned into months. Her body has almost forgotten his smell, his touch, and his softness. Her body has met other lovers, has felt other hands on her hand, has whispered loving things into the night to someone else. But has her heart forgotten? When she misses him deeply this way, she reminds herself that he is, after all, one of billions of humans to love.

And suffering is part of being human. Which is why she holds on tight to compassion. She wonders whether or not other bodies share her struggles, her pain, and her emptiness. Do they ache for past lovers, for those suffering, for sins of the world, for a God they can’t understand? Do they love horses and flowers and sunshine? Do they roll down all four windows on the highway and pretend like they are part of the mighty wind? Do they weep sometimes at night for a reason they have yet to figure out? And do they close their eyes and smile, breathing deep, and just love?

Yes, they do- they have to, she muses.