I’ve always been fascinated by space and sky. Both have a way of grounding me. When the sky is clear and I can see the stars, it helps declutter my mind.
See, I’ve always been one to think and look years ahead at what I want my life to be. I have all these grand goals and there’s so much I want to achieve and improve within myself and beyond.
When I was a child I dreamed of the day I could drive myself somewhere. When I was a teen I couldn’t wait to study among peers just as passionate about writing as I am. In college, I filled journals with aspirations of contributing to all my favorite publications. Even now, I can’t stop my mind from day dreaming about what’s to come.
I am resilient and driven, which are amazing qualities, but they can also be heavy to carry sometimes.
I’ve always struggled with short-term goals and living in the present. Every now and then I get this suffocating worry that I am not doing enough to check all the goals off my to-do list. I forget to slow down and spend a weekend unwinding. I lose sight of the present and only see what I haven’t reached yet. I forget that life is about more than success, that the quiet moments are what I’ll remember most.
I think this isolating way of thinking is common for a creative person. I’ve always been sentient to my external and internal worlds. I need to pour those emotions somewhere. So I write, craft and take pictures to express myself.
Sometimes I don’t think I do enough. I get so caught up and forget to look beyond myself. In these moments I need to remember I’m just one small person in a world of people with worries and dreams.
So I look to the stars.
I count the notches on Orion’s belt and think about how much soup each of the dippers could hold. I spin in circles in the middle of fields, with eyes wide open and jawline up. This act reminds me that though time is short I’ve got enough of it to stop and relax. So I should enjoy every day because I’ll never get tomorrow back.
I’m currently working on my second collection of poetry. I’m pouring my soul into the stanzas and loving every minute of it. However, poetry, creation in general, is a personal experience for me. It is putting me face to face with all the things I love and hate about myself. It is making me think, constantly.
Stargazing pulls me out of my head and back on Earth.
The thing about stargazing is that, in order to do so, I have to put myself out there. I have to go into the dark depths of night. I make a conscious effort to stop thinking of myself and look up. I let the quiet drown out the noise in my head. Time slows down and I see galaxies beyond the little bubble that is my life. Then, when ready, I go back to the life waiting in the car.
For a single woman the night can be daunting, but the reward, the reminder the stars give me, is worth it every time.