The Road Was Not Really A Road

It has become apparent to me, in the past couple of weeks, that my life is a series of random events that are seemingly unconnected and unrelated to one another, and yet they make up this bizarre and typically pleasant life of mine. My paths are not really paths. The road isn’t a road at all.

I had a devastation a few days ago. A complete and total devastation that resulted in two days of crying and a box of donuts. And then, on the third day I was somehow saved quite unexpectedly. It hasn’t necessarily lessened my sadness over what happened before, but it has acted like a balm on my heart and soul. I feel so unusual. Happy and sad at the same time- I’ve never experienced that. It’s surreal but a soft satisfying kind of feeling. If it was a color it would be lavender.  If it was a sensation I would say it was like hiking in a hot and humid forest all day and then slipping into a cool and clean pond of water- completely silent and still but full of life.

I feel like I’m looking at my life in a completely different way and yet it’s the same. I can see all the not really paths and not really roads and they all connect but in unexpected and unique ways. In my imagination I picture them as the dirt roads and paths I loved so much in Uganda (and these certainly qualify as not really paths and not really roads). Somehow, I love it.

Oh! I also wanted to say that I think everyone should listen to the following bands because their music is sublime and sees me through life’s devastations and joys.

Marina and the Diamonds.

Florence and the Machine.

Band of Horses.

The Temper Trap.

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