It’s been a while since I could sit back and actually take a look for the view. I have missed my window and am looking forward to pulling up a chair and seeing once again what there is to see.
When I look out I have to clean off the dust that’s built up around it, I haven’t been able to look outside for an eternity, been so busy living in the world that I have somehow forgotten how to take a breath, take a step back and just look both inside and out.
There is safety inside the window. We are not exposed to the elements; snow is pretty but it cannot bite your skin with the pain of frost. A rolling thunderstorm is an amazing spectacle from the window, but outside it is a danger and you become drenched in sweat, rain and even a touch of fear. It is always safe to look out this window from inside the locked room, not standing beyond and experiencing everything that exists outside of it.
Should we open the window? Try to breathe the air but still be able to slam it shut if the air tastes bitter? Put our hand out there to see if it can “feel” differently than within. Perhaps we should. Or do we even want to?
From the window I can see the landscape before me and not that which lies in the shadows, waiting and whispering to me. Things that have long fallen from my hands, from when I always left the window open, when fear wasn’t part of who I am. I used to lean out of the window, teetering on the edge, almost daring myself to fall but not. I basked in the tension and thrill of the risk.
I have forgotten how beautiful it is to look out there. Wind blowing across the trees and when I touch the glass I can feel the outside. The window pane shakes ever so slightly at my touch. I pull my hand back quickly, almost afraid of the feeling yet wanting to feel it again. Making the connection and desperate to feel that world again.
In the end, I open the window and push myself past the safety of the window frame, exposed to the outside world and able to feel the sun again. I breathe in and let the warmth fill my lungs. The air is good and the breeze is gentle, almost caressing my cheek like a lost lover. It feels….welcoming.
The Writers Note: I am so very sorry to have been away so long. So busy living life that I stopped writing about how I feel while living it. I am back and looking forward to sharing the views yet again.