I stumble outside on a cold winter morning. A chilling gust instantly pierces my cheeks like needles pressed against a soft fabric. My tender eyelids struggle to peel open, robbed of a full night of rest, and the relentless wind discourages them even further. In search of comfort, I instinctively reach for the pockets of my jacket. They are a poor consolation in this harsh weather.
Why did I have to be up when the sun itself wasn't?
My senses are overwhelmed from every direction. Yet, I feel so alive. Unpleasant, but still alive — with an acute awareness of my existence that rarely manifests itself when stuck in the mundanity of everyday life. After reaching my mom's car, I wait impatiently at the passenger door. Despite sharing this tiny blue planet with billions of my kind, I stand here utterly alone under the vast night sky — the monotony of darkness only broken up by the occasional stars speckled across the endless expanse above. As silence fills the air, so do my thoughts.
I begin to dread going to school. I can't remember the last time it felt normal. More than anything, I wish to stay in this peaceful moment forever. Suddenly, being exposed to the raw and unforgiving elements is preferable to my immediate future. My mind wanders to fantasies of romance, of opulence, of recognition... of an older me who has everything figured out.
That will happen right?
beep beep
My ruminations end abruptly as my mom exits the house. I reluctantly scramble inside the car and wait for her to do the same. After she starts the car, I turn on the heat and my favorite radio station. Familiar tunes play as I doze off.
I let out a long breath and shut my laptop. Another work day over. While packing up, I deliberate about what I'll make for dinner.
Chicken tacos? No, I just had that recently. Maybe salmon and mash? Hmm... I'll decide later.
I step back after calling the elevator and stare blankly at the indicator lights. The office is eerily quiet, sparing the clacks of ping pong rackets meeting ball as well as the local news station playing softly on a television nearby. I listen half-heartedly, waiting.
Ding
After arriving at the ground floor, I scavenge my pockets for my badge. The lady at the front desk says, "Have a great day!", so I respond quietly, "You too." As I step one foot outside, the blazing summer heat instantly blasts my face. Fighting the urge to turn around, I create a canopy over my eyes with my left hand and squint. The glare from the blinding sun still makes it difficult to see, but I power forward to my car anyways.
Texas Summers.
The cabin of my car is an oven, so I leave the door open, using the time to browse Spotify for the right playlist. I settle on one I haven't listened to in a while. When the car is cool enough, I back out of the parking spot and begin my journey home.
Exiting the highway, I stop at the red traffic light right before my apartment building. Dinner occupies my mind again. While still deep in thought, the song "Landslide" starts playing. I stop thinking about dinner and listen attentively as I continue on the last stretch home. Instead of hastily getting out of the car as I would typically do, I take a moment to let the song finish. Afterward, I sit and listen to it a few more times.
It's strange how you can experience a place, a book, a movie, or in this specific instance a song so many times, but one day, out of nowhere, it grabs you out of your apathy and places you uncomfortably in the present. I can't remember the exact sequence of memories or thoughts that flashed into my head as I sat in the car that day, but I can remember the many emotions and feelings that followed: nostalgia, anxiety, regret, acceptance. I never let them engulf me for so long anymore, but, in that transient moment, I allowed them to simmer. My problems weren't solved, not in the slightest, but what a beautiful song "Landslide" is.
The song captures the bittersweet nature of growth, change, and the passage of time. It exemplifies a core aspect of the human condition: that the beauty of life is inseparable from the temporalness of it. And most importantly, it contains themes of finding strength when presented with life's inevitable challenges, and of facing similar challenges again and again with the same strength — especially when it is difficult. I needed that message now.
So, on a day no different from any other, in a brief moment of clarity when sitting alone in my car appreciating a beautiful song, I find myself worrying again like that innocent kid did, on a cold winter morning so many years ago.
Despite convincing myself that I'm grown, I will always be that same lost kid searching for happiness. That same lost kid who often takes steps in the wrong direction. That same lost kid who, in his own young, dumb, and half-assed way, still continues searching nonetheless.
[!QUOTE] But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I'm gettin' older, too— "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac