Lime Green Walls

(didn’t have a photo of the walls oops so just ignore that - I wrote this a few weeks ago)

I’m sitting in my childhood bedroom.

Light is streaming in the from the windows hitting the carpet perfectly where I’m sitting, heating the ground. I can hear a faint lawnmower and the chirping of birds.

Someone laughs from downstairs.

I’m skimming the tops of the trees outside my window, all a lush green in the classic landscape of a Pennsylvania summer. The oak trees outside my window have been my favorite for awhile now.

The end of our street is pretty quiet, except the occasional car whirring by, or train whistle in the distance. It’s around dinner time, so the children playing in the neighborhood aren’t outside for their evening games yet.

I scan my room, mainly covered in high-school and college memorabilia. No matter where i go, this room has accidentally remained a constant. Whether it’s the now-hideous lime green walls i once loved at 9, the plastic trophies up on the shelf collecting dust, or the several burnt out string lights hanging, this room is a complete time capsule.

I’m now laying in the same spot i did at 14, wondering what her worries were then, wishing I could tell her they wouldn’t matter in the long run. I’m wondering if in another decade, my 34 year old self will return to this room, probably made into a storage room by then, and wonder the same thing.

But in the current decade, in this moment, I’m home visiting family for the weekend, finding peace in a place that I’ve lived many lives in. And I’ll repeat this next sentence over and over again to myself: This present moment is enough.

- 🐝