Seagulls

EDIT: I was all proud that I wrote an entire post on my cellphone, but never went back and read it until just now. I really slaughtered the english language. I'm gonna go ahead and blame it on the tiny screen and ghetto keyboard, and fix the errors now. Anyways.

I love seeing seagulls fly overhead. Its what made me so optimistic the evening before last as I was showing my truck to a couple of potential buyers.

The reason I'm so happy whenever seagulls fly overhead is because in a town like this, a few miles inland of the coast it means rain is on the way. Those simple, common birds have learned that its easier to weather the storm just past those coastal hills, or else they just come to keep us company while we enjoy the cleansing rain.

And the rain is so refreshing. It has the potential to purify the soul, and this week in particular it was a symbol of new beginnings. As I take the first steps to rid myself of the dark clouds in my life, another kind of cloud has come along and made my future seem brighter.

This is the happiest I've been, in a long, long time.

It seemed strange watching my car driving away from me yesterday evening, but it was a passing feeling that quickly yielded to joy. I went directly to the bank, deposited the cash from the transaction, and fulfilled a few of my financial obligations, experiencing a completely undue feeling of accomplishment. But I can't help but feel better knowing that I'm trimming the fat of excess from my life. It has inspired me to live a life of minimalism like the men whose words I have aspired to for so long.

I am fully aware that the road ahead is a hard one as I continue on my journey to freedom. Freedom from debt, personal freedom, the freedom that comes with being a more confident and stronger man.

No sooner had I gotten back from the bank than the rain came back again, just a drizzle at first. I rode to bike night with a few new friends, and felt at one for a short two hours with hundreds of people I normally have nothing in common with, all flooding the downtown streets of San Luis Obispo, as if to say: we're here, and we're very much alive. As bike night came to a close, the rain came back in full force. I reunited with the friends I had arrived with, and we made our way to 7-11 and warmed up over a cheap cup of coffee (or in my case hot chocolate).

The ride home through the pouring rain might once have been a miserable half hour for me, but surrounded by friends, breathing the refreshing cold night air, and feeling the cleansing rain rinsing away my worries, I realized: this is what it means to be alive. And as all such nights end, I parted ways with the group, trudged up the steps to my apartment, dried my bike, and made my way to the warmth and comfort of my bed.

As soon as I woke today, I paid in full a few of my debts, showered, shaved, washed my face, and stepped out to take the bus to grocery shop for the first time in weeks. The rain was still here, like a good friend visiting for the weekend, and as I soaked in the warmth from the rain and the picturesque view of palm trees and waterfalls falling from rooftops that greeted me from my front door, I couldn't help but look straight up to where the rain was coming in such a hurry from and smile. The weather is an eternal metaphor.

That leads to now, sitting on the bus just now arriving at the first set of stores, armed with clipped coupons and a mission to find the best bargains that I can. And as I take those first steps off the bus, I can't wipe the smile off my face, a broken man with a mission, a newfound sense of purpose, and a smile.