Closed Eyes

Journey Life Writing

Tree-Longwood

Sometimes at night when I close my eyes, I envision myself on the plains of Africa. I am not sure what country I will be in on that continent, however I am certain that I will one day I will caress the trunk of an elephant. Get lost in the never ending waves of a zebras skin, all the while knowing what it feels like to hide under the shade of tree branches from the suns unforgiving rays. When I close my eyes, I see myself on the plains of Africa.

I often wonder what that sort of freedom feels like. Not the sort that rests in the bosom of these democratic American lands, but the kind that embraces culture. The kind that tastes sweet and sultry, maybe sometimes salty. The taste of another country: the taste of another nation. I’d taste discomfort; a flavor of personal growth accompanied by all of its angst and instability. My palate would be refined to a level that I have yet to experience and I would be ok with that.

Sometimes when I close my eyes midday I see myself on the plains of Africa or in a Parisian café. I see myself sipping cappuccino with locals and conversing about family, life and love. I envision myself writing with clear skies above me and an amazing meal in front of me. I imagine my phone ringing with a love that I have yet to discover on the other end calling simply to say hello. I picture myself smiling just because.

I told a friend of mine that he smiles beautifully. I don’t see him smile often, but when he does it is happiness manifested. I see images of his smile and wonder what it would be like to feel the energy within his thoughts. Inside of my eyelids I see flickers of his smile and I enjoy the image.

Sometimes when I close my eyes, I see myself on the plains of Africa or in a Parisian café. I am smiling just because I am talking to him on the phone and we are planning our next getaway. Maybe we will land in Santorini, Greece or maybe Mykonos. I’ll sit by the water with my pen and pad. I’ll bring my Kindle and contemplate whether I will read first or write, both allowing me to rest in a controlled atmosphere of joy. One day, when I open my eyes, I’ll be reminded that what I see in darkness isn’t that far off.