I went to a wedding once. You know, one of those ceremonies that you read about in history books or see in classics from centuries ago. It was a small affair, just five in all; we were outnumbered by ducks in the nearby pond.
There was something about that short moment, something that I only noticed when the sun was on my back and the ducks quacking as ducks do, and the reverend stepping away after the bride and groom said “I do.” I felt golden warmth from the sunlight, the winter chill in the air, and imagined the hand of some divine entity putting a pin in this moment, this second of time to mark its importance in the scheme of things. Now there’s a polaroid of that moment on the divine’s eternal corkboard, and I was there as witness.
Serenity wakes.
It was serene in the greatest sense of the word. Even as we walked through the park to our returning ride to civilization, lingering warmth lodged in my chest. A strange feeling, one I’d long since forgotten in the drudgery of everyday life, serenity is like relearning that you’re not alone in the world. It’s relearning that yes, if you just reach out, you can physically touch the people around you. They’re not just cardboard cutouts. They’re not imaginary. They’re real in every sense of the word, just as real as you believe yourself to be. They’re warm to the touch with pumping, beating hearts and minds full of thoughts just like yours, and if you just reach out, maybe you can feel you’re not alone in the cold.
Serenity is the warmth of the sun on your back on a chilly winter day. It’s seeing the world for what it is--even if it’s only a snapshot--and being content with it. The good, the bad, all of it. Standing on the sideline of that ceremony reawakened my serenity. Not that I hadn’t felt it before, but that I’d forgotten its embrace.
I’m left wondering when it’ll come around next, and whether it’ll be deja vu. I hope I’ll find serenity in my day to day life now that I remember the feeling, but as with most things, serenity is fragile. I’m probably going to forget what it’s like, because if I force it, manipulate it, synthesize it, I’ll be left with nothing but disappointment.
Serenity wakes, and it’s a beautiful sunrise on a cold soul. I wish you could feel it like I did, magnificent bastards, and maybe someday you will.
Styles Yugen, signing off.