No Words to Speak.

It feels as though for the first time, I am starting to see.

Yesterday I watched a baby patter through the grocery store, AAaaaaAAaaaaAAaaaaAAaaaaAAaaaaAAaaaa, each footfall triggering a burst of joy, noise falling from her lips in bursts. It almost seemed as though she could not run without shouting, for when she was quiet she looked down at the ground when she walked, and each step was slow, cautious, not like the reckless abandon of her running chant. For this little one, mobility and noise walked hand in hand. Another form of synesthesia?

Today I realized just how much I've come to appreciate the awful brevity of this world. It struck me today as I sat with my grandma, thinking about the tea parties we used to have when my sister and I were little. We didn't drink tea then, but we do now. The time has changed me far more than my grandmother, but I can see the difference in her as well. She is an inch shorter, frailer, all the muscle gone from her body now. She will be eighty-six this November. Her heartbeats are past spent. But it wasn't until she fell and broke her hip at the beginning of this year that I realized just how short our time together might be.

It makes me want to run and dance and scream just to hear the sound of my own voice. It makes me want to create things, though I'm afraid that I can never do justice to creating. I feel myself inadequate, as if I cannot possibly create enough to make my existence worthwhile. But I'll do the best that I can. Even if homework tends to get in the way every now and again. And I'll see what I can do to inspire others while I'm at it - maybe a few mind babies would help make my life worth it as well.

It's difficult for me to find the words I need to say right now. I think I'll go and see if Stevens has something to say for me.