Goodnight Hollow, Goodbye Spineless

Posted on November 6, 2007


There’s something about the first snow, and something about waking to a silent house that looks out on a chilly downtown that is still softly lit with the grey light of early morning.

Somehow it represents something different to me this year. A new chapter is opening, a new story is being written. It differs from the blank slate feeling seeing as my existence feels less like an empty canvas and more like I am walking into the first few pages of a new novel.

There is something intensly beautiful about this point in my life. Before I talk too long you’ll find that I get twisted up into my own paradox because it is simultaneously one of the weirdest points in my life. But I’m okay with that. I mean, whoever said life was going to be normal?

I was driving home from church on a rainy night sometime last week. “Gentlemen (Go to Sleep)” by Far-Less was playing softly through my glowing dashboard. The rain was pleasantly monotonous and the yellow lines lead my car through the night with ease. Out of the middle of nowhere my sister said something that incredibly significant. I listened to my younger sister unfold her thoughts in the darkness in the seat next to me and all I could do was smile. What she said to me not only confirmed that I had learned my lesson but also that I am indeed going the right direction.

I feel whole and I am anything but hollow.

I was mostly just wanting to wish you a happy Tuesday, a happy first snow, and happy singularity.