Cold Mountain (2003)
“Clouds, clouds, and then sun”
There is always a reason as to why we do things. I love to preach that many people do not think before they act, but deep down an unanswered question is hitting the roof of our heart, begging to be experienced and unveiled, by the plight of an unannounced reckoning. People-pleasing preaching is what I do best.
Moments that beg us to make a choice without first being able to notice the feathering of their hold; will my head be able to rest on this decision comfortably or will I have to develop a fluffing technique to aid in living with a now stone-like compress to the head? A cold pillow is the remedy to a brain-on-fire. Some people cannot fall asleep as easily at night because their mind is racing, looking for an escape into a sleep that might give them their answer in the morning. I personally stand behind “sleeping on it” and “knocking on wood” for any moment that deserves space to be held and eventually let go.
Quitting is hard because it cuts off possibility, in both its positive and negative respects. Searching for endless “what if’s” is easy, but truly opening yourself up to their outcomes is the opposite of playing it safe. Good things cannot come easily due to their relation to perfection, their status sitting below what is unattainable. I look around my room to notice what sanctuary it holds for me, but I also remember the research and panic I felt when trying to build it to be that way. I love entering my bed after a day of exhausting myself; it was fun nonetheless because I lived it’s moments out in my own truth. It was hard getting to this mindset and even harder to accept that what I thought had killed me had only opened my wounds toward healing. Though they are heavy with pain, I carry these scars with me.
In the movie Cold Mountain, the Civil War drives two lovers apart in what is now modern-day Canton, N.C. As they live four years apart from one another, they learn how to move from despair to survival to reconciliation with the war and their lives which are now forever changed from it. The quotes in the movie were beautiful and as breathtaking as the views that surrounded their story. Sometimes we need to leave home in order to know where it is in our hearts. Home is where the heart is, and distance makes the heart fonder.
I wonder since there was no virtual foundation to remember someone by if the idea of a person grew more or less by mere memory? Because if I can see what you post on social media, will I not make assumptions about you based on what you have said or done?
Back then, things were very simple, as we have heard many of times. I wonder if while we continue to create, are there more ways to break? Telling is the age-old story of well, aging; bones that snap and never heal quite right, cells that stop regenerating and memories that seem to either fade away or get stronger with each passing day. Still, the things we remember will always have their opportunity to strike when the iron is hot as the old band aids fall off and are replaced with newer revelations.
I hate endings, I really do. What is more monstrous then getting everything you wanted, built up by the time which seemed so permanent in each new vindication, it now seems to have been just another piece of cloth put over the wound that never stops to seem bleeding.
As what goes up must come down, you do find sanctuary among the numbness that fills the weight of knowing, physically and mentally, that you truly tried your best. We cannot always be at 100%, but we can always be honest and find another way toward what it is we long for. Is it love? Is it patience? Is it success? Or is what we all want to just outlive this sickness?
“With no hope of reaching you, I write to you, as I have always done.” - I dedicate this to my heart, mind and soul and everything within them.
