Wax nostalgic and poetic

Rain has fallen four days this week in my hometown (for those of you who are also in my hometown, don’t fact check me on how many times rain has fallen, just vibe). Last year we didn’t see any rain unless you count a three minute sneeze on the earth. This weather has got me feeling a certain way.

Each night I go about my room turning on all of my fairy lights, salt rock lamps, and lighting candles with wooden matches that smell of smoke. Shadows dance along the four walls I have made mine and the warmth of light and heat fills the space. Outside, rain creates music against the trees, the rocks, and the sidewalk. Wind accompanies it an a harmonious duo.

As I look around my room colored in amber light and buttery shadows I begin to wax nostalgic and poetic and am once again reminded that our world holds beauty.

It’s become difficult to remember the beauty of our world when the narrative of a broken one is pushed on us so frequently. It’s easy to get stuck in the mindset that we live in a cruel, heartless, terrifying world filled with destruction and corruption. While those thoughts are in part true we mustn’t forget that stories can be told from multiple perspectives.

So on these nights under the glow of nostalgia I think about how the world is good. I think about art and music and cinema and poetry. I think about the way we love. About how we are passionate and creative and curious.

And by the time that the night winds down I want to share these thoughts. I want someone else to feel the way that I feel. To be, in a moment, in awe of and comforted by the simple beauties of our world.

I know it’s a bunch of fluff and I sound like the cringy narrator of a romantic drama movie that only had the budget for one a-list actor but hey, sometimes you gotta wax nostalgic and poetic.