I live for peaceful moments by the lake midday during summer,
the gratifying feel of spring rays on frigid cheeks,
rivalling the shy blush of peeking tulips
after months of hibernation.
I love the solemn nights I share with a good book during the rainy fall,
the floating feeling in my tingling toes after taking off ski boots
on a snowy afternoon after the slopes,
the furious love I feel for loved ones,
pointed fingers and arguments and all,
the ongoing, unspoken conversations maintained with friends
regardless of distance,
our spontaneity and their unwavering support
hovering from afar.
I’m grateful for this body of which I don’t always approve,
that I shelter from myself
by turning off the lights in the bathroom
and looking away.
I’m grateful for the resemblance I bare to my ancestors,
that they passed down their curiosity, will, drive, labour,
stubbornness, patience and love
in each stroke of my face and life line on my palms
for me to be here today,
carving my path
while leaving the door open even wider
for those after me,
as they once did.
I’m grateful for their presence,
whether or not we remain strangers
or tease each other on the phone,
proud to call each other family;
I know their spirits.
I’m thankful for celebrations
and shoulders to lean on when heartbroken
and wise words whispered past 1 a.m. on dirty tiles,
love lingers in our blood, my family’s trauma and joy alike,
itched in my genetic code,
tying us together, no expiration date in sight.
I recognize my imperfections and strive to better myself
to better my community.
I strive to fill my life with meaning, moments, purpose and people
and to take my time,
to be present with others instead of struggling to relive memories
on my own.
I accept imperfections,
perfection is unattainable
but peace and fulfilment are within reach
if I’m patient.
I recognize the shelter and gift of our planet and its people in the midst of conflict, change and uncertainty and strive to take care of it
as I care for myself
as we grow old.
I am grateful for travel and culture and languages and knowledge and books and growth
and lullabies and nostalgia and kitchen counter dance parties
for throbbing concert halls and music festivals and six flag park chaos in aggressive humidity and chocolate-licked lips with too many calories to count,
for startlingly beautiful animals and plants and oceans and forests and mountains and life, which goes on and grows through
while we’ve predicted its end for centuries
and contributed to it.
I am humbled by what it means to be human,
how similar, complex, confusing, frustrating,
hurt, kind and flawed we all are.
that we have each other
even when we feel alone in our grief and late night aches.
I am humbled to be here
in these pages,
long after I’m gone,
and so we do
About the author
Laura is a Copy Editor for Youth Mind. When she’s not reading, writing, proofreading or editing, she’s binge-watching series and films, adding new goals to her bucket list and daydreaming or listening to an eclectic playlist or podcast. She can also often be found dancing, unsubscribing to emails she accidentally subscribed to, discovering new green spaces or snuggling with her dog.