Lately I have been thinking about how I want to see the world.
All of it.
Every nook and cranny of this sphere spinning softly through space.
I want to be knocked giddy with the joy and beauty of it. I want to be pushed to my knees with the sorrow and the sadness in it. I want to see it all.
And when I think about seeing it all, I start to think “But of course, I know that’s silly. Of course it’s impossible for me to see any of it, much less all of it.” I almost start to believe that. Thank heavens for the words of Claire Dane’s character in the film The Family Stone: “It’s there for you.”
And I’m reminded. That I was put here to see it. To see it all. To be left breathless by the breathing of the vast ocean. To be humbled by the might of the immeasurable mountains. To be silented by the thousand sounds of the forest. To feel the rain and play in the snow and dance in the sunlight. To tear down the walls around my heart as I gaze upon the greatest wall that China has to offer. To find myself wonderfully lost in the streets of Barcelona. To stretch as high as I can and marvel at the buildings reaching higher and then higher again in New York. To lose track of time trecking toward Big Ben. And there is so much more, so many places I want to go, so many sights that my eyes are just yearning to see.
I want to see it all. Every bit of it. I want to go find so much beauty that it leaves me aching. Aching to know that I will never find the words to carry a thing as lovely and messy as this life.
Isn’t that what living is really about anyway? Knowing you can never stop the forward motion, but that if you choose to you can grab it by the hands and run along beside it? I think it is. I think it’s about knowing that you will never line up the letters just right enough to say how much you love this life, but that after the sun has gone down and melted the day into night, you can’t help but pick up the pen yet again and try.
-Jessi Sanders 2012