Enthusiastically, Dawn

Join me in reading this little piece titled “Longing” I wrote a few years back. I figured I would share it here- as it was forgotten in my piles and files after being rejected by the magazine to which it had been submitted. I figure, maybe some of my readers might enjoy it?

I have retitled it to serve as a prompt for you. If you so choose to indulge in a little journaling. After reading, grab a pen and notebook. Write about something, or everything you are longing for.

I’m Longing for…

Lately I am desiring the delicate indescribable something that came before the psychological intrusion called social media. The unnamable something no one can see, or put a finger on, but is recognized when it’s gone missing, and remains a quiet inner longing, waiting to be birthed in its time.

This longing – swells within, gives birth to both joy and tears, pain, and pleasure…quietness or laughter. I’m longing for the days where slow is the new fast, and goals are flower petals that fall away and bloom anew each spring.

I’m longing for the days of unrushed letter writing instead of quick e-mails. I’m longing for stacks of photos shared by hand, each image a sliver of life on paper, instead of a glowing phone passed from hand to hand.

I’m longing for the opposite of progress, the dangerous delirium of sitting by a stream in daylight dreaming of Summer in Spring, and the apples of Fall. I long for stillness.

And Sundays when everything is closed and there is a welcome lull in the frantic pace which permeates our every waking hour. I long for slow walks and long talks and the intangible, untouchable place which belongs to me alone, and my imagination. The unshared space between my eyes- behind my skin, deep within that serve as Grand Central Station, Project Management, Human Resources and Communication Center. All my me, behind the eyes – my precious gray matter. The precious place that is mine alone to conceal or reveal.

I long for a vacation away from the tyranny of the urgent and consumerism which wars against my soul. A break from the 15- minute fame Warhol prophesied would enchant- which leaves me exhausted, and to which there seems to be no end of walk-in parts, everyone seeking their own individual piece of the pie.

I long for lightening bugs on long summer nights and friends who linger, and are always right on time before you realize you need them.

I’m longing for porch lights shining late into the dark night, lining the roads like a path to heaven, an open door-like the friend who holds out hope, a cup of coffee, at any hour.

I’d love to know your thoughts, or if you choose to write a bit in your notebook, or journal. Thanks for stopping by and taking the time to read these words. I hope they touch you in some way!

Enthusiastically, Dawn

Thank you to my BEST bestie who took the picture (though she did not know it at the time of taking!) for this post. It seemed a good match for this post.