filled–a window peering in

right now I feel the words teeming under the surface, seething and searching and straining to break free. life has been so busy lately. the chaos of school and clubs and working and socializing all seem to be filling my mind but suppressing my words. 

confession: I laid crying on my floor, minutes before my tennis class, as I scrolled through old photos of my mom. it was her birthday, a bittersweet day filled with hesitations and fears that I would never dare to voice out loud. filled with sadness and confusion, with what ifs and why's. 

as I sobbed there on the ground, I hurt in all sorts of ways. I was uncomfortable with the fact that I was hurting, that I was not some invincible being who never stumbles nor feels the type of pain that roots itself deep in the soul. I was filled with frustration too, that I was feeling all of these things. lost and afraid and alone. 

I am not quite sure where else to take this. while filled overwhelmingly with sadness, I too am filled with much joy. these two ostensibly opposing forces seem to coexist in my person for each night I reflect upon my day and stumble upon the beauty and the glory and the gratitude, even if soaking in sorrow I sit. my life is filled to the brim with wonderful folks who care and love so intentionally, who smile and hug and know when to ask questions or when to simply stay silent. it is filled with hues of growth and decay, tides ebbing and flowing, misty mornings, a simple surrendering of myself to the one who is greater than I. 

surprisingly, it is even filled with pockets of peace, as I extend to myself the grace I need to let myself be. whether I find myself jumping into the ocean after the sun has barely risen, taking a sabbath or calling my mom as I eat a snack, I strive (nominally at least) to embrace the slow moments, for the slow moments are perhaps where I feel the most alive, filled.