I am often drawn toward my inner thoughts. I find them in the crawl space of my mind, hidden away yet visible enough for me to see them, to feel them, to meditate on them.
In the best of times, expressing my internal feelings has been an outlet for me and helped me grow. In the worst of times, it replays the moments I’ve missed the mark, where regret and pain live side by side. My only hope is redemption lies in the middle of right where I fell.
Steve Jobs once said, “You can’t connect the dots looking forward, you can only connect them looking backwards.” And as I collect the images and words that will comprise my first book, which has eluded me for so long, I can start to see the path I’ve taken. I sought refuge on the streets of a city that I feel a symbiotic relationship with, one that many see as broken and misunderstood. And yet I’m reminded of a time I was in Australia listening to a man proclaiming, “You are not your circumstances.”
There is beauty in the ashes. There is hope.
And, as I was walking the streets of LA, I was searching for the beauty all around: in every nook and cranny, in every corner, in every interaction. In reality, I was searching for the me that was lost. I was trying to find the grace and mercy I couldn’t give myself.
I was trying to find the beauty in me among my ashes. The hope I had lost long ago. A self-induced unraveling.
The city, its streets, and its inhabitants have been my therapy, my safe place. And with each step taken, it has allowed me to forgive myself.
*excerpt from LA Diaries.