5 Tickets for the Universe Please
The sun truly is the star of the show.
Five friends sit on the beach shaped like the moon, witnessing their version of the sun go down.
For these five, after a day filled with their own different realities of meal prepping, baby showers, wrapping last minute birthday gifts, grooming for a date and hesitantly paying therapy bills amongst donating all their long skirts,
the choice to slow down in what feels like a place rushed by time is incredibly powerful.
It’s the first warm day this town has experienced for a while.
The recalibration of these settings not only helping internally, but making this choice to not do it alone seems rebellious.
For most humans, the clouds of winter cover a part of the brain, that like a a solar panel, needs light to function.
In the centre of the bay sits a smaller version of Alcatraz, guarded by seagull sailors. Ironic, as they are thieves themselves, stealing dinner off the witnesses of their fortress. On the right side sits the city, where it lives as its own separate island, and on the left a tavern strung with fairy lights like its own hidden treasure on the pier.
The sky is a layered smoke of colours, an orange bleeding sky being put to bed by the night.
Due to the position of these five facing north, they watch in real motion as the sun sets in the east and the purple growth of night on the left.
A visual a timeline of hours painted gracefully in the span of their own 20/20 vision.
They attempt to take photos, as if they are unsure that this image will ever happen again.
Recording the sun as if he performs only metres away of the audience at his concert. These humans making sure they capture the exhilaration and authority of being there in this moment.
To their dissapointment, nothing remotely on the screen resembles what is in front of them. They take turns naming colours and textures they can see, what it resemble and what they don’t take notice of in the other six days of the week.
As time passes with this conversation and many other, they are simply surprised by the final act of the stars.
Not realising the sun had escaped under their own careful watch.
The tavern on the pier starts playing music. People dancing and singing, grown adults playing with their drinks and their friends. The night has given them permission to turn young, like an ethereal potion, a transformation of letting go on their Saturday night. Complimented by the sound of soft waves climbing instead of crashing over seaweed landmines of slimy abyss.
The cool air hits, the conversation becomes faster andnegotiations start, “should I suck it up for another ten or do I get my jacket from the car”, “where do we go from here”, “can’t we stay a little bit longer?”.
Eventually the five slowly pack up their things, collecting in-jokes and memories like seashells along the beach.
Five friends sit in a small hatchback, giggling and telling stories, rejuvenated to live another week back on their own versions of earth.
Authors Note:
A lot has been going on in my planet.
New job, new people, new routines, new experiences, just new, new, new!
All exciting and good may I add!
When I started this newsletter, or whatever you want to call it, it came from a place of impatience. Digging deep to experiment creatively in my writing, especially to learn more about myself, mainly because I was so unsure of where I was going next and felt so stuck.
However, when the destination arrived, I got so caught up in it and was so focused on getting to a place of ‘experienced’ instead of ‘new learning’ that I forgot to process everything along the way, to enjoy the ‘now’ I had so consistently manifested for myself when I decided to leave my job.
From a place of reinvention to keeping retention, I found myself hitting speed bumps in my own not only creativity but identity.
Who did I want to be recognised as?
Not only to others but also to myself on a day to day basis?
And how I demonstrate that?
Personally, I think for some of us, without realising we’re always trying to constantly prove to ourselves the people we want to be instead of just experience being people on this giant rock.
As my therapist reminds me consistently, “we are human and we forget that sometimes”.
Although being human looks extremely different for everyone, and I can only speak from the experience of myself and observations of others around me, it feels that it’s quite easy at points to tick boxes instead of colouring them in, so to speak.
Especially when life keeps adding them up.
But you know what, the world keeps turning that’s for sure.
Before this adventure to Half Moon Bay (or as we call it in our group, Half Claire Moon) I had no idea what to write about and felt like I didn’t deserve to dedicate the time to write about something of little worth when this whole page, was as I said, to write more.
But getting home from this little picnic with my friends, just felt like a the nature bath I needed to wash away the intimidating eternal list.
And slow down to watch the sunset, and like my friend Ruby, try and describe the colours into my phone as a short story.
But still, it will never do justice.
So this piece is short, sweet and nothing deep.
Colouring outside the lines of ticking the box for my own KPIs this month when it comes to a writing piece, but I hope it acts as a reminder that it is powerful to slow down especially with the people you love.
