ACQUIESCENCE
the reluctant acceptance of
something without protest.
THE DAILY EXPRESS. LOWER THAMES STREET, LONDON
ACQUIESCENCE ON A QUIET SUNDAY
A second Sunday passes
And the world is quiet.
But I’m sitting on the window sill
Thanking everyone for everything.
Everything they’ve given me
That prepared me for this moment.
Grateful for my Pop
Who taught me how to ride a bike
How to be generous
How to enjoy the sound of the birds.
Grateful for my Nan
Who taught me how to bake scones
How to knit a scarf
How to figure out a sudoku puzzle.
Grateful to my parents
Who taught me how to be proud of myself
How to use a film camera
How to be kind to others
How to be positive.
Grateful to my brother
Who taught me the joy of finding adventure close to home
How to be thick skinned
How to be confident in my decisions
How to keep going, to not give up.
Grateful to my best friend
Who taught me how to be honest with myself
How to laugh at myself
How to forget about time by the seaside
How to be completely present.
Grateful to my mentor
Who taught me how to see burdens as blessings
How to find my passions and pursue them
How to find and heal myself
How to create stillness through yoga.
Grateful to every relationship that didn’t quite work
For teaching me how to enjoy my own company
How to be honest and kind
How to fearlessly travel alone on a whim
How to treat others with softness and respect
(Despite how much someone may have hurt you).
Grateful to every friend
Who taught me to sing at the top of my lungs at a concert,
Who taught me how to dance
Who taught me the definition of unconditional love
Who taught me to back myself
Who taught me how to show up for myself and others, always.
Grateful
That I have been given the space
To see it all.
London. March 22
ACQUIESCENCE, KANDINSKY POSTCARDS FROM PARIS TO SELF, ONENESS.
Oh my god, is it okay to be this in love with my life?
Is it okay to be this alone?
Is it okay to whistle as I ride my bike through Paris?
Is it okay to think of absolutely nothing but the next direction and the music in my ears for a while?
Will that be okay forever?
Will that be okay in two hours? Two years?
Is it okay if I stay in this state of oneness for a while?
Is it okay that everyone is me? And I am everyone?
And we're all just existing in the same place, same time, same way?
I hope that's okay.
At least, here in Paris, it is okay, if only just on a sunny Saturday.
Paris, March 07.