Last week, a good friend of mine asked a few folks out to celebrate her birthday. On a Thursday. A school night. Start time was 9:00pm. I was like oh, she wildin’. Folks turn 30 and think they grown. I had to prepare my mind all week. Had to talk to myself like hey girl, you can do it. You can stay up late. You’re a warrior. I was down to go though because this was one of my favorite people (hey Kell!) and I was in need of a good time anyway. I told myself I was having one of those “young, wild, and free” nights. Because I’m grown too. And I can do whatever I want (somebody queue Beyonce). Let the record reflect I took extra vitamins all week, only drank water while there, and left at a completely reasonable time. Because turns out, I’m not that young, not that free, and not that wild (Beyonce make you think you Beyonce but you really just you).
To get myself in the (relatively) young, (just a little) wild, and (not debt) free mode, I decided to wear a pair of those faux glasses that the young kids wear. I think they’re supposed to make you look smart or trendy or maybe like a playful librarian. Not exactly sure. Nonetheless, I felt like I was dressed appropriately for a Thursday night slight turn up. I went. Drank that water. Ate some hummus like the adult I was pretending not to be. Chopped it up with the peoples. Saw a cute guy. Didn’t shoot the shot. Danced with my friends. Had a great time.
By the time I was headed home, I had had the faux glasses on for several hours. As I was coming up on my exit, I realized that the glasses were a bit smudged and were the reason I kept squinting. I took them off to wipe them. As soon as they came off and I looked up without them on, it was like the world opened up. Like I had been in a shell of the world and taking the glasses off unlocked a door to the real thing, the clear thing. My eyes were in high def. Everything I saw was sharp, crisp. It was beautiful. I’m not being melodramatic. I literally looked at the trees and thought they were splendid. I admired the lines on the road like they were art. I saw a street sign and thought it exquisite enough to be in somebody’s museum. I stuffed the glasses down in my purse. At the very bottom. Where all the receipts ever given to me in life somehow end up. The same place that gum wrappers, dust, and pennies seem to navigate. I was done with them. How dare they keep me from fully appreciating this loveliness?
But you know what? I didn’t think the trees, the road, or the street signs were all that before I had on the glasses. They were all regular. Nothing special. It took a smudged pair of glasses to force me to refocus. I got home that night wondering what other things had I not been able to fully appreciate because I was trying to be cute or cool or trendy. What other things in my life had I not been able to see clearly because my lenses were smudged? For that matter, what other things looked good but actually weren’t? In what ways did I need to refocus?
The truth is that I lack nothing. I have everything I need. I am everything I need. Anyone who does not see me in this way is not for me. In the moments of my life that I think otherwise, I have to remind myself to take off my smudged glasses. They don’t allow me to see the mundane for what it really is. It is sublime. My little life is sublime, y’all. To be sure, there are lots of things I aspire to have or to do. I have goals. I have purpose that I haven’t capitalized on yet. I know that, and I’m working on it. Even considering what I haven’t done or gotten and, more importantly, what I think God wants for me, I know that I have a beautiful life. It’s enough. More than enough, actually.
Sometimes I hold people or things in high esteem that shouldn’t be held there. I have to refocus. Sometimes I get people or things that are really awesome but I take them for granted. I have to refocus. Sometimes I sit and have pity parties for myself. Everyone say it with me, “I have to refocus”.
I’m going to try to live without the smudged glasses and take in the splendor of my awesome life. Come with.