| I have often said that life is just a trail of moments we string together to form cohesion, moments moments moments. We decide to save some of them, and we have to join them, somehow, so that it will make sense to us, and connect them somehow so that we can stand the things in between the moments we want to keep.
Sometimes when I hold a child I can feel my life grow long.
Often I wonder which are the moments we need to hang on to for real What if we have saved what we want, and that is what we hold dear, and then discover we have been deluded, cherishing pebbles like diamonds and leaving the wrong beautiful things behind. Because we were blind or selfish or just plain stupid.
We are humans. We want to know everything.
I save the water and the skyline and mountains and swings. I save pictures and words like a tremendous scrapbook of a life. I save lots of stuff with nothing to connect them except me.
What do you save? How do you string it together?
I save babies. Their sleeping breath and smells, the way they gurgle at themselves. I save Autumn and music and books. I save the sky in every single shade I've ever seen it, and I save the rain when it falls. I save late nights. I save the first kiss that felt like a first kiss and I save small nuggets of freedom wherever I can find them.
I string them together with stories, one at a time. I can't keep these things to myself.
Swings are good, but only for a short beautiful while. Because for that short beautiful while you will find that you can fly and then you will jump off flying and thud back to earth. It is so easy to break people. If I could be anything I'd be water and I'd be wild about it.
What do you save?
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