Last Night

Mercy. The mind is a wonderful thing, but at times memory is too forward, too accurate, too sharp and the imagination is too suggestive and the heart is too filled with doubt. Thankfully my brother had been there to (unwittingly and preemptively) save me, like he usually is. I am so un-expressibly thankful for him.

Even with that watery eyed bit, last night was very nice. My brother and I went downtown for Mediterranean pizzas (2.99 on Tuesdays). He was still recovering from all the joy surrounding his big show on Sunday night, and experiencing a lack of sleep, so he was feeling a bit off too. There are things to help these sorts of moods: There were hugs. And cracked pepper chips. Then we went to his house and watched my recently arrived copy of La Vie en Rose. I am so glad that Marion Cotillard won best Actress for her role in that film. I was amazed. And for such a sad movie, I didn't leave with that enormous sinking feeling like I usually would have, but rather I left with a greater portion of the purposefulness that has been welling up inside me lately and a deep understanding of my heart's capacity to love.

For someone who loves the past deeply, it can be hard to keep it in it's place. But when my present and future are filled with such wonderful things, it becomes as easy as pie to refuse the past any more of my time than it deserves. I want the future to be informed by the past, not to be determined by it. I want to draw inspiration from it, not be defined by it.