Every time I take the bus, which is not very often mind you, I feel like I'm in a Dave Chapelle skit. My skin starts to itch and I feel insatiable- unsatisfied with my life options for the duration of the trip.
I could get down on myself for not being "in the moment" and "appreciating what is." But then I realize I am in fact doing both, letting myself fully live the dark moments of my experiences on the bus!
Today is no different. I notice my bright yellow shirt as contrast to the gray and black clothing that seems to dominate the dress on this bus today.
For my teens, 20's and 30's I wore all black. Maybe it's par for the course as New Yorker, or perhaps it was pure rebellion from my mom making me return my black Gloria Vanderbilt jeans when I was ten.
It was my first time shopping on my own and I went to Gimbles in Brooklyn Heights and bought a pair of skin tight black jeans, and a comb to put in the back pocket. The entire walk home I planned my outfit for Monday, hair style included, only to have my fantasy shattered. Five minutes of looking through my purchases, mom said, "these you have to take back, Sherry. You are much too young for black."
Today is Earth Day, and I'm desperate to get back to the Island and get my hands in the dirt and my toes in the ocean. Wanting my inner earth to settle into the rhythm of the land I now call home.
But behold, on the bus I am, my ten year old son Miles sits next to me in skinny jeans and a black and grey T shirt. I know now what mom meant about being too young to wear black.
Those dark colors seem to strip away the playfulness of childhood.
So I wear yellow for us both and do my best to look at the sky and the trees through the window with out getting too bus-sick. And I take out some cocoa butter to slather my skin.
And I write this post.
And I breathe into the light and the dark of it all.