letting go

Twenty five seconds into this meager first attempt at creating a mixed movie of some of the footage we took in Hawaii, walks the woman I was while away in August: Light, and goofy, unencumbered.

As it should be, while away from all earthly burdens, under the sun with my guy.





Not a day has passed that I haven't thought about this footage, how light my spirit felt while we walked the pathway to a picnic dinner on the beach, the dancing that followed.

The end of summer gave way to a gloomy fall and though the initial grief has passed, I still find myself quieter and more solemn these days. This isn't to say I don't have joy in my life; I do. I cultivate it. But I am more sorrowful and slower to laugh, and instead of just accepting this little phase I'm going through, I keep pushing myself to be that girl in the video again, amid the dead leaves and broken households and lonely nights when my husband is too far away from us.

That is what is breaking me. I'm chasing a lightness in me that has passed, as the days grow shorter and the wind howls outside in window.

****
The last of the yellow jackets has stumbled into my kitchen, passing the dogs on their way out, rummy and lethargic. It juts around the windowsill, in short jerky moves. My kids are afraid it will run them down, but it is no longer a thing of speed. Whatever spunk that carried indoors won't take it where it wants to go, peckish and neutered and dying.

It bounces off the ceiling light until I catch it, and put it out so we can both let go of summer, and days spent in the sun.


Comments

K. said…
Lovely, both movie and words. Thank you.

For you and me, both:

"The point is not to resist the flow. You go up when you're supposed to go up and down when you're supposed to go down. When you're supposed to go up, find the highest tower and climb to the top. when you're supposed to go down, find the deepest well and go down to the bottom. When there's no flow, stay still. If you resist the flow, everything dries up. If everything dries up, the world is darkness." - Haruki Murakami
Stu said…
Great video Lisa. Many in our circle have had a heavy end of the summer. You will get your lightness back. We all will when this passes.
Keep pushing. You'll dance again.

As for me, I will be lying on my couch, eyes closed, picturing myself in one of those lounge chairs by the Hawaiian beach. Thanks for such a long glimpse of your trip.
stephanie said…
The video was stunning, and your prose is breathtaking. I'm so so blessed to have you as my friend.

These days are killing me. I think we'll all be good for each other, in our own ways.

oxo
Christi said…
Wow...that was very cool. I felt a lump arise as I thought about letting go of that life I had at camp and the longing I have to be the carefree girl I was then. Thanks for sharing!!
JCK said…
Lisa, I'm so sorry for the grief that has lingered over your friends' marriage- blown apart. I'm sure it seems like a violation.

I loved seeing your silliness and lightness in the video, and knowing that you had a wonderful trip.
dkuroiwa said…
I'm sitting here with such a lump in my throat and words all jumbled as I'm having a hard time putting it all together, to make sense.
That...was beautiful...and Cheri was right, the B&W was perfect.
Life is hard...may the friends you have around you and the family who loves you help each other to shed the heaviness...all in good time.
There will be music again....there will.

Popular Posts