There is an odd correlation between the color grey and the countless shades of an opal. Through tumultuous waiting, I lost the effervescence of the gem. In lieu of the pale greens and lighted pinks against the sun there lay a muted tone of blacks against whites, the marriage of distilled uncertainty. After a game night at a friend’s house, I lost an opal earring given to me by my mother. A thoughtful present as it was the centrality of our summer together – we spent nights curled in blankets, the muffled choices of homeowner’s on HGTV in the background as we endlessly scrolled through images of the opal. We selected vast arrays of our favorites and, like an opal, one facet of an image caressed the beauty of a different conversation, a color unto it’s own.
As I sit on the bench outside of my friend’s apartment, the reflection of life distinctly replaces the glow of the opal. A few hours ago, I listened to a neuroscientist speak on the impeding nature of death, reveling in it’s nature to highlight the good. Accepting the impermanence of humanity, we subject ourselves to compassionate conviction. We choose only the deeds and thoughts that provoke depth to our lives. We expand the breadth of our knowledge to live by turning our minds to death’s doctrine. Moments later, I lose sight of the single-breathed soul in my body to a material object.
But it is okay to place care in an object. Perhaps these objects have life spans as well, such did the time spent with my family between my second and third year of college. Every item and moment moves through winds and echoes in chambers of our hearts. It is the eloquence of memory that strengthens their permanent presence. The loss of the opal was not impactful because of monetary value – the loss of the opal wrenched precedence of a relationship, one with my mother.
And yet, the reconciliation of loss coalesces uncertainty. Yes, I have a few more places to check in search of the estranged gem, but the greatest lesson from this search stems from self-awareness. I mishandle uncertainty. The ambiguity of grey matter pales my vision to opportunities. The deep breathing mechanisms tighten in my chest when life steers out of my control. There are more truths to illuminate in life than to-do items highlighted, yet societal pressures can plague its beauty.
The transience of being an optimistic college student dogmatically mirrors the attributes of a lost opal: our depth undefined, our perspective true to our origins, our shades constantly evolving when cast across different light. The potential held inside an opal is endless, yet the expectation to find it can dwell heavily in the heart. Remove expectations of color, castor, or shape, and move with passion. The right light will beam when you accept the dubious silhouette of life.
As I sit on the bench outside of my friend’s apartment, the reflection of life distinctly replaces the glow of the opal. A few hours ago, I listened to a neuroscientist speak on the impeding nature of death, reveling in it’s nature to highlight the good. Accepting the impermanence of humanity, we subject ourselves to compassionate conviction. We choose only the deeds and thoughts that provoke depth to our lives. We expand the breadth of our knowledge to live by turning our minds to death’s doctrine. Moments later, I lose sight of the single-breathed soul in my body to a material object.
But it is okay to place care in an object. Perhaps these objects have life spans as well, such did the time spent with my family between my second and third year of college. Every item and moment moves through winds and echoes in chambers of our hearts. It is the eloquence of memory that strengthens their permanent presence. The loss of the opal was not impactful because of monetary value – the loss of the opal wrenched precedence of a relationship, one with my mother.
And yet, the reconciliation of loss coalesces uncertainty. Yes, I have a few more places to check in search of the estranged gem, but the greatest lesson from this search stems from self-awareness. I mishandle uncertainty. The ambiguity of grey matter pales my vision to opportunities. The deep breathing mechanisms tighten in my chest when life steers out of my control. There are more truths to illuminate in life than to-do items highlighted, yet societal pressures can plague its beauty.
The transience of being an optimistic college student dogmatically mirrors the attributes of a lost opal: our depth undefined, our perspective true to our origins, our shades constantly evolving when cast across different light. The potential held inside an opal is endless, yet the expectation to find it can dwell heavily in the heart. Remove expectations of color, castor, or shape, and move with passion. The right light will beam when you accept the dubious silhouette of life.