The Arc After The Storm

As I poured my almond milk, which isn’t really milk, into my daily first cup of regular, hot coffee before I began my day, which isn’t really a day but 10 days before 10 o’clock, I thought that I found a great place to put it— A missing sign.

Yup! Something was missing.

WANTED: a rainbow

Lately I have been feeling some turbulence…

clouds are heavy.

sky is grey.

You wouldn’t know by the way I  mask it, which is ironic because we don’t wear masks anymore, but I do— sometimes.

A sunny disposition from the outside, but in all honesty the rain from my eyes is still effecting my fresh blow out and mascara coated eyelashes.

I’m seeking an arc after the storm, a rainbow.

One I can call my own.  

A handful of Mondays ago was the first time in so long I smelled the scent of freshly cut grass. I quarterly watch the seasons change in and out my window. The growth spurts in and out of my home. But this year is different I knew spring had officially sprung by the aroma and the hum of the lawnmower on the school’s front lawn . The whiff of the fresh cut grass, in fresh spring air and my need for fresh perspectives.

The week went as planned, not that life isn’t typically predictable, always the regular times mixed with uncertainty and a hint of whim and a dash of ingenuity but at times—  mundane. And I know most people not on my path would trade places with me in a heartbeat, sometimes I still wonder what if…

I would not nor could not give up all I have for the alternative— just a glimpse of “is the grass actually always greener or do they just  have the better camera filter…”

By weeks end the clouds above me were extra heavy. In and out my window.

Saturday it rained. All day.

I needed a fresh blow out. Someone else’s TLC for me.

As I entered the salon, alone, wet from the rain, I was met instantly with the hum of blow dryers and idle gossip cutting through the cloud of hot tools and hairspray smoke, I breathed it all in.

How I missed that…

Hard to describe why I missed it… but I did!

It’s not just the transformation but something more in the air…

I wore double protection, a hoodie and carried an umbrella. It’s kinda like I was hoping not to get my roots wet, expose my natural curls or wet my “mask”.

The 45 minutes of “me time” was exhilarating.

But I only enjoyed 22 minutes and 30 seconds of it…

I think I left too many brain browsers open and began to mind surf all the things for everyone else I needed to do, and I was on limited caffeine and low on almond milk.

March had been filled with madness of the surreal and the sublime. This season belonged to the quintessential underdog and the unsung heroes in and out my window and in and out of my home.

A few weeks ago I was back in the same gymnasium, same spot in the middle of the bleachers, late night on a school night.

The final game—

And as life imitates art. Sports imitates life. The underdog won the championship and our Cinderella story had nothing to do with a glass slipper but the pre-teen happily ever after of hard work, sweat, and tears.

Making your own fairy tale.

Dreaming wide awake.

Some of us are born with a “something” inside them. I was born with a story. A long chapter book, which according to my religion was written long before I knew it, but I was not cut out for the short story or cuts, so I like to tell my own version— the shit you can’t possibly make up… and it’s all true. So either take a seat and listen or politely excuse yourself from the conversation… you can’t have your cake and eat it, too…

But I’m the only one in my house who drinks almond milk, which isn’t really milk. So I guess it will be up to me to find what it is I’m seeking.

And what is it I am looking for in and out of myself…

“Every storm runs out of rain.” — Maya Angelou

Fast forward— I blinked and it’s now late-April.  

Nope early May.

Wait post Mother’s Day actually…

Spring sports and spring fever have filled the air.

The lions and lambs and showers to bring the flowers.

But, it’s been a dry spring so far. Not enough for one to call it a drought but the arid atmosphere has protected my curls and made me realize a few things about finding my rainbow...

The same way you grow anything with the basic essentials—love, science and magic.

I might have to search and grow even if it means getting wet and feeling the pains.

Then one late April Saturday night I went to the movies and it rained. In no particular order…

I haven’t been to the movies in years and our whole month we saw little to no rain and little to no sign of a rainbow— mine or theirs.

Sitting in a dark room with a wide screen, surround sound and diet cherry soda— my 5 feet tall legs and  my feet barely touched the floor. Hard to explain, but I felt ageless also because the movie was set back in the decade of my electric youth backed by the soundtrack to my own personal milestones pre-mommyhood and my soles were not decked in heels but sneakers.

Jordan’s what else?!

Sneakers on a Saturday night is so not me, but it was befitting for the cinematic experience and the scenery because I was going to see a movie about an iconic pair of sneakers.

As much as the movie was about a pair of sneakers it was also about a different pair.

The movie was all about iconic three-letter words… mom, son, his arc, and air. The space between it all and the distance between good and greatness.

There were so many lines, moments and scenes. But the movie, this movie, this basketball movie had little to do about the sport and less about the legend or even the legacy but about taking a chance. Seeking out something that isn’t always so easy to obtain but covenantly sought after long after the after thought of it.

We often remember the quote:

 "You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who'll decide where to go... you’re off to great places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting, so… get on your way! “

—    Dr. Seuss

Sometimes the mountains we create are higher than the mountains we must climb from others before us.

It’s June now—

This year has been a mountain. I began at the bottom of it. Looked up and could barely see the other side. The air at the top is completely different than the one beneath me.

As I climb this mountain I’m struck by the idea that it’s shape is a natural arc.

So is my rainbow a figure or a configuration of some sorts?

A journey from one side to the other…

A whole is equal to the sum of its parts…

Just like me.

My story.

My rainbow.

I’m in search of something that has been there all this time. Maybe not always filled with 7 distinct colors but a path I take.

Now the rain has come. The rain has filled the cracks of pavement under my feet with muddy puddles and my reflection.

I have watched as my life and my children have grown so much this year.

There has been every kind of moment.

 Daily mountains

I have worked to catch my breath and then remembered to take a deep breath in the moments that left me breathless — good and bad.

As I move through my climb I realize that my destination is basically always guaranteed to be where I planned it to be in the end — the journey I am on is less certain and more unknown. This leaves me to wonder if along my way I will find what is I’m seeking…

Breathe in…

Breathe out…

Feel the air entering and exiting my body.

As I took one last spring breath of the fresh air, fresh cut grass and the fresh perspective in my sight I realized I wasn’t looking for a rainbow anymore.

The color I seek is in the way I can remember that memories aren’t meant to be in sepia tones.

or black and white.

But the color they will add to the lives around you.

After losing a friend so suddenly and tragically recently, I remembered how he must have misplaced his rainbow and forgot to take a breath. Now to honor him and life itself I must remember that what we seek can only be lost if we don’t look hard enough to find it.

This year has been a wonderful and bittersweet reminder of that. Nothing is lost if it still lives deep inside of us.

I think this is what I ended up finding instead —

We can be our own rainbow after the most biblical of storms and most importantly we can we can be someone’s else’s, too…