A Peace Of Mind
Tapping my fingers rigorously against my steering wheel to the beat of my song of choice, a sense of peace already starts to consume me. A long drive followed by the calming sounds of nature is exactly what I need after such a strenuous week I have previously endured. Though it’s relaxing, the music playing throughout my car is no match for the repetitive thoughts I have going through my mind. I’ve just lost my best friend, who has been there for me through 3 years of trials and tribulations of my life. I have no clue how to contain myself in a world where I’m without my other half, someone who has regularly proven to me that they know me better than I know myself. Someone who I thought I actually knew just as well. The amount of pain in my heart is unbearable, I feel as if I don’t know who I am anymore, like I have to create and build myself all over again. Letting all of your guards down to someone can be the most euphoric experience, in the sense that you have someone who understands you for who you really are. In contrast, it is probably the riskiest thing you could allow yourself to do. Letting my guards down is something I’ve always shown to be terrible at, my parents consistently trying to pry into my mind to find out what I’m even feeling or thinking about. I cruise around the windy road that oddly resembles my crazy life, each bend bringing out a new set of emotions and memories that put another crack in my soul. As I finally make it to the straight shot to Dawes Arboretum, I start to question why I ever thought I could completely open my heart to someone.
The sun is a fiery shade of orange as it begins to set over my destination: the Japanese garden. I slowly idle down the small hill that leads to t...
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... just drown their high school stress with parties and pretending not to care about what’s going on around them. I always try to look for someone my age coming to Dawes for the same reason, though it’s always been unsuccessful. I look around at the grass softly blowing side to side as the wind takes it wherever it desires. I find myself filled with joy to have the opportunity to enjoy the little movements that nature makes. Not many people appreciate the little things in life.
A cool breeze tickles my arms, reminding me that fall is coming my way. I decide that it might be time to head to my car, with most of the worries from the week now out into the open; leaving me worry free and ready to continue living my life to the best of my abilities. On my way to my car I take my usual deep breath of relief, simultaneously feeling a huge weight being lifted from my chest.
In Amy Hempels’ Short Story “Going,” our journey with the narrator travels through loss, coping, memory, experience, and the duality of life. Throughout the story is the narrator’s struggle to cope with the passing of his mother, and how he transitions from a mixture of depression, denial, and anger, into a kind of acceptance and revelation. The narrator has lost his mother in a fire three states away, and proceeds on a reckless journey through the desert, when he crashes his car and finds himself hospitalized. Only his thoughts and the occasional nurse to keep him company. The narrator soon gains a level of discovery and realizations that lead to a higher understanding of the duality of life and death, and all of the experiences that come with being alive.
Every individual has a distinct past that shapes his or her identity. The situations people face may cause them to have distorted perceptions of themselves. These distorted perceptions allow people to lose sight of the important things in life. In order to discover their true selves they will need to create a path for self transformation. Scott Momaday, Victor Joseph and Macklemore have different pasts but all share a common thread of reconnecting with the important things in life. Many variables affect each person’s destiny, but it is their physical and psychological factors that predisposition their vulnerability. Vulnerability can often be seen as a sign of weakness, but these protagonists are examples of those who embrace their vulnerabilities. Within Scott Momaday’s The Way to Rainy Mountain, Sherman Alexie’s Smoke Signals and Macklemore’s life, the protagonists claim their true identities by becoming vulnerable.
“Every part of my body hurts. Except my heart. I saw no one, but, strange as it was, I missed no one” (Strayed 70). This takes a turn of events. “Every part of my body hurts, except my heart,” gives new meaning and how Strayed manages to gain emotional stability in the wake of her mothers’ death, and illness. This shows great strength in regards that she rises above the obstacles thrown in her path--the feeling of what it means to be alive. This work invites and informs the reader of the many ways one can cope with loss; moreover, Strayed demonstrates what what may work for everyone--the method of sublimation.
When she finished with her morning ritual, I took her into the house, gave her a pat on the head, and grabbed my running shoes. My mind was still empty as I walked to my car, hit the automatic unlock button, and put the key in the ignition. I turned the key one click and the electric system forced the radio to blast into my ears. Simultaneously, thoughts I wasn’t aware were there came to the surface as I listened to Cutting Crew sing “I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight.”
I became who I am today because of a life changing experience that occurred in late-November of 2013. As I sat waiting for the awards ceremony my palms got sweaty and the butterflies in my stomach multiplied. The announcer seemed to drag on the awards for hours when in reality it was only minutes until first place was awarded. It was then that I realized I was a State Champion.
A calm crisp breeze circled my body as I sat emerged in my thoughts, hopes, and memories. The rough bark on which I sat reminded me of the rough road many people have traveled, only to end with something no one in human form can contemplate.
Life wasn’t as assuring as it may seem today. While growing up, I made some decisions that wasn’t beneficial to my life. As years went by, still there wasn’t any progress besides working routinely at the same job for 3 years. I knew it was time for a change. When I completed my HiSET diploma, bought a car, and moved out my mother’s home, I became at ease with myself.
I pulled into the driveway of my house and parked my car. I grabbed my coat and bag and opened the door. When I got out I instantly began to smell the sweet aroma of the long rose bushes making their way out of our fence and into the world of our driveway. I was so captivated by the fall breeze, and the beautiful smell of fall in the air that I didn't even know that I was to the door. As I snapped back into reality, I looked up and I was standing at my doorway.
Summer vacation, and school ends for about three months, and then you have as much fun as you can, then back to school… right? Well I had to go to summer school, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Everything was going fine, I had a job after summer school, and that was going fine as well. They say that summer is supposed to be fun and exciting, and it usually is for me and my family. However in July my father started coughing up blood. My father usually doesn’t make it his top priority to go to the doctors, so he waited about four weeks until he really didn’t feel good.
I am by myself wearing my blue jeans and an old flannel shirt. It is cool outside but I decided to leave my gloves at home, feeling comfortable with my warm shirt and my sturdy boots.
I was twelve years old when I was hit with devastating news. My dad called me at a peculiar time while I was at the mall. He informed me that my grandpa had died of a heart-attack; the news was devastating.
My stomach weakens with a thought that something is wrong, what would be the answer I could have never been ready for. I call my best friend late one night, for some reason she is the only person’s voice I wanted to hear, the only person who I wanted to tell me that everything will be okay. She answer’s the phone and tells me she loves me, as I hear the tears leak through, I ask her what is wrong. The flood gates open with only the horrid words “I can’t do this anymore”. My heart races as I tell her that I am on my way, what I was about to see will never leave my thoughts.
Swoosh the wind went and flipped Mako’s pages in his Journal that his grandfather gave him. Dear Grandfather it has been 15 year now since you were gone. I have a wife now. Also I have a son his name is Amen. He is just like you who always has a story to tell . He is 5 years old.Another thing Afa died 8 years ago I hope you can see him one day.Mako put his journal down and he told Amen to come and pick fruit with he .SPLASH,SPLASH Mako got into his canoe with Amen.
It was a dreadful afternoon, big droplets of rain fell directly on my face and clothes. I tasted the droplets that mixed with my tears, the tears I cried after the incident. The pain in my foot was excruciating. It caused me to make a big decision of whether I should visit you or not. I decided I would. I limped towards my bright, blue car where my bony, body collapsed onto the seat. I started the engine up but at the same time being cautious of my bleeding foot. I then drove to the destination where I was bound to meet you. I was bound to meet you after three years of counselling from my last appearance with you. I guess all I can remember is the scarring....
At seventeen years old, I know that keeping things inside is not healthy. I know that stomach acid doesn’t work the same way on feelings that it does on food. Contrarily, they grow. They build up like hair in a drain, filthy, dark, and disgusting. At seventeen, I know that emotions held inside are like bombs waiting for the pressure to swell. And at seventeen, I know that the only way to truly find closure, to truly be happy, to release the pressure and avoid total collapse… is to open