Smells Like Nostalgia

This afternoon I left my apartment and walked. I needed to walk. This was more out of necessity than for leisure–I felt compelled. Usually when you "have to" go for a walk, it's to escape something. But for me, today, it was not about escape, it was about finding. It wasn't that I needed to get out, it's that I needed to go somewhere. No, I needed to be somewhere, in a particular state of mind.

I pray daily but today my prayer needed to be more of a verb. I walked and walked and walked. My destination was irrelevant, but my purpose was clear: I needed to commune.

My introspective self was having the time of her life.

The rain reminded me of Boston.

The leather boots from the mission reminded me of Boston.

Sloshing through puddles in a skirt reminded me of Boston.

Passing a warm patch of laundry-scented air reminded me of Boston.

And just as I was realizing all these Boston connections, I passed a condo complex with an ornate sign out front: "The Bostonian"

When I came home I noticed that this morning's lovely curls had been replaced with a frizzy mess, courtesy of the humidity. That DEFINITELY reminded me of Boston.

Walking alone did not remind me of Boston. Being by myself is often my favorite company, and that's a luxury I never had while I lived there. But today as I walked through Provo with my body and through Boston with my mind and heart, I took full advantage of the solitude and thought. Just thought. I came to some interesting conclusions.

1) No significant event in my life has been a coincidence. God is not a God of coincidences. Everything is carefully orchestrated in my life and in yours.

2) The decisions we make really do determine where we land. Had I not responded to the sudden and alarming but obviously inspired promptings to serve a mission I would not be the person I am today. Ugh. That sounds trite. Even as I type this I'm disgusted by the unoriginality of that phrase, but it's true. So much of who I am is because of that one decision to serve. My days are different, my career is different, my friends are different, my pants size is different, my actions are different, my anxieties are different, my goals are different, my prayers are different and my desires are different.

Will I look back on the decisions I make today or tomorrow and recognize the importance of these moments? Is every point in my life just as potentially life-altering?

I don't know. I don't know why I'm still writing this post. I keep editing it, then deleting the whole thing out of frustration because I'm feeling embarrassingly inarticulate (probably because so much mental energy went into reflection today). But it keeps regrowing. Stranger and more nonsensical each time, it's actually getting closer to what I'm feeling.

What I know is this:

I'm thankful for the road I'm on and the turns I've taken to get here.

I'm thankful for walking prayers that disturb the snowglobe that is my brain–even when it takes hours for the quisquiliae to settle back down to the bottom.

I'm thankful for rain in October, and for the way it fleetingly transformed a place I love into the place I love best.


My favorite as of today: "Boston in the Rain" by Stan Moeller
See his gallery here