we are all made of stars

I caught the happy virus last night
When I was out singing beneath the stars.
It's remarkably contagious--
So kiss me.

- Hafiz

It's easy to forget about stars when you live in a light polluted metropolis like Chicago. Lately I have been trying to find that first star of the night so i can make a wish, like I did as a little girl. There is something strangely comforting about this simple act. Perhaps this is why I am so often compelled to go to the beach at night. It's the one place in the city where the sky is big and {relatively} dark enough for me to actually stargaze. The rhythm of the waves lapping upon the shore as the soundtrack is an added bonus.

Moby is right. We are all made of stars. Billions of years within each of us. So the stars that I gaze and wish and hope and love upon today, that light which took a gazillion years to reach my eyes, these stars may someday be the very stuff within our future selves. Thinking about that helps me to resist cynicism. When what we do and who we are seem so insignificant, I'll think of those stars and believe that the light we shine now will someday be seen, and that the stuff we are essentially made of--not just the physical but the emotional and intellectual and spiritual as well--will still be around in some shape or fashion even though we ourselves may be long gone.

Y'all really should come to the beach with me one night...

giving in to the blur

The motor of the camera’s lens spins and whirs, straining to make sense of the darkness. Sometimes, autofocus is plain futile, and you just have to switch to manual. Even then, your eyes struggle and squint through the tiny viewfinder, and so, out of frustration, you give in and let everything go out of focus and click. And that’s when you breathe deep, relax and see the beauty in the blur. You had no idea. THIS is what you wanted to see tonight.

Life is like that too sometimes, isn’t it? You work so hard trying to maintain clarity, to keep things in focus, utilizing the light you have. Maybe sometimes you just have to give in to the blur, to the unknown and the unknowing. Maybe sometimes you just need to stop struggling so hard to see, to have that perfect vision. For those of us who like to remain in control at all times, the mere thought of letting go in such a way can be an unsettling experience. And yet maybe it can be beautiful. Maybe it is beautiful…

words to chew on

I had a post up on Shutter Sisters yesterday using this foto. I've taken a similar foto at this spot almost 2 1/2 years ago at night. I have these places in Chicago where I like to go by myself at night, and it's always a different experience to be in those spaces in the light of day when other people are around and I am not cloaked in the safe anonymity of the night.

Anyhoo. I think I need to chew on these two little words "Go Slow" for a bit, even as life continues at breakneck speed here in Chicago, where we try to squeeze the last drop of sunshine and warmth out of our summer days before we wake up one morning and find that summer left without so much as a note goodbye, and winter has already moved in. I'm thinking about this as I nurse a strained ankle which is forcing me to slow down during an extremely event-packed week. I have reasons for still going to these events that I won't get into here, but my ankle is making me think about the space I create for myself when I am at these places.

This might be one of those times that I look for solitude even in the midst of community.