It Was a Wicked and Wild Wind

She waited for the song to end. 

She was already five minutes late for work, but the song just had to end. She pulled the USB cable from her phone with a sigh, placing it in her bag and started the process of counting the steps before she could leave her car. Wallet in the bag: check. Cup of coffee from Starbucks: check. Handbag: check. Car locked: check, three times.

She went inside the company with steps that were in no hurry. Five more minutes wouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t like work would collapse if she wasn’t at her desk on time. She was responsible for training her entire team to carry out this stupid task she’d worked on alone for months. She knew the moment they spotted her in the company, they would come rushing with their questions. But what would the hurry be for? Starting another workday, not knowing what life would throw at her? No, thank you.

She hummed the song she’d just finished in the car as she pressed the elevator button. She wondered why she wasn’t at home singing that song in the comfort of her room. The house would be empty now with both her parents at work. How heavenly would that be, to sit alone in your comfort zone, wearing PJs, singing to your heart’s content and hoping the neighbors wouldn’t know whose voice that was?

With another sigh, she let out the hums of the song a little louder than intended.

The elevator doors opened. She stepped inside with the Starbucks cup in her hand, thankful that there was a logical reason to stop her from dancing to the music only she could hear: who would want to start the day with spilled coffee?

As the elevator doors opened again, she started walking with happier, lighter steps. The song was really getting to her now, filling her up. She imagined being at a concert and let all the hypothetical emotions fill her to the last pore until she felt, for just a moment, that she could overflow.

But that was quite unlike her. She used to show emotions all the time. Now she discovered, the hard way, that it was a bad idea. Before she made it to her desk, she’d already dialed down her feelings. She was at work. It would be weird if she started acting all happy.

“Good morning,” she greeted every member of the team, exchanging small talk here and there, then went to place her stuff on her desk in the corner. She loved it. It was the best spot she’d ever been moved to within that company. It was secluded, safe. Her Captain America shield greeted her as she went to put down her bag and coffee. She smiled slightly, making sure no one could see that. They always thought she liked Captain America because he was cute—which was only 50% of the truth!

“Hey,” one of her teammates came over to ask her a question about that infinitely boring task she was responsible for. The words streamed out of their mouth, but she stopped listening for a moment as her two computer screens came to life at once: she’d forgotten about her new wallpapers. Now the iconic scene from Avengers: Endgame lit up before her eyes, making her lose focus.

She struggled hard not to show the big smile she wanted to draw and listen to her teammate’s question instead. It was an important question, but she just had more important things going on right 

now!

Just to get it done with faster so she could go back to her beloved Avengers world, she got up to show her teammate the answer on their computer. She did it with a polite smile, as always. She had never been rude; she was not about to change that. With a friendlier smile, she left her teammate after she made sure she’d fully understood the answer to her question and started the journey back to her desk with excited steps that only she could hear. She felt like a little girl on the inside with those new wallpapers.

Quietly, she sat down to work. The Avengers excitement soon died down, and she was left alone again with her thoughts.

What am I doing here? she wondered. I mean, yeah, this is not a bad job at all. I even kind of enjoy it. But … seriously, what am I doing here?

As she thought of the million things she wanted to do, she felt unhuman energy course through her veins. There was so much she wanted to do. She had so much potential. How could she sit so still?

Oh, she answered herself. That.

She remembered all the times she started things she’d been so passionate about, then never finished them. The guilt was practically eating her alive, killing all her next dreams. She just had no more faith that she could finish anything unless she absolutely had to. Like work. Like chores. Like deadlines she had to respect. She was terrified of failing herself again, of starting something and never getting around to its end. She was tired of never seeing her dreams achieved. She was tired of exhausting her emotions over something that would never be completed.

Tired of the dilemma she found herself stuck in every day, she put on her earphones and played a song of her favorite band. Yes, that felt good. She felt more alive, more … quiet despite the stirring of emotions within her. As the music rose, her pulse rose with it, and she felt she could soar if only she didn’t have so many strings tying her to the ground. But part of her was grateful for those strings. If they were someday cut, would she fly, or would she realize she never knew how to?

The thought disturbed her. Another fear. Another thing to worry about. Great. That was just great. That was just what she needed. I hope you’re happy, she said to her anxiety. It must be having the time of its life!

Don’t be stupid, a voice told her. She wasn’t not startled by it; it spoke to her every day. You know how to fly, the voice pushed on. You just forgot how to.

Burdened by her crippling fears that only grew in number every day, she decided to ignore the voice. Perhaps I’ll listen to it tomorrow, she thought as she sank an inch more in her chair without realizing she was doing it. She turned the songs up, trying to drown out the sound of her own mind. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to admit it.

She was afraid to let herself hope.

*******

Hope is a very dangerous thing, she remembered the line from The Shawshank Redemption. Indeed she believed it was true. Hope could drive men mad. Hope could destroy lives.

But she also remembered a friend telling her the story of Pandora’s box, how hope was the only element that had be let go of consciously. She thought she was doing it every day, but if a voice inside her told her she knew how to fly every day, then she must be doing something wrong. Part of the hope inside her must have eluded her when she was trying to kick it out, like a little child hiding under a sofa where it was too low to look.

She resented that little child, but she was also thankful for it on some level.

That child was the reason she could still enjoy the little things. It was the reason she could still see beauty in music, in friends, in the weather, in people’s acting in movies, in the familiarity of a perfectly ordinary Saturday. That child was the reason she was still alive.

Every day, it had come to her, tugging at her clothes, telling her she could still have the life that she always wanted, that it wasn’t too late. And every day, she would shush it, dismissing it from her 

sight. Could today be the day?

She lost herself in thought, realizing that that child had grown right under her nose when she was too busy trying not to see it. It was not a child anymore. It was a grown human with strength and passion and persistence that would not be easy to overlook anymore. That must be the restless growth she had felt inside her. That must be the motion she had sensed and chosen to ignore. That must have been the hope fusing itself in her flesh, becoming an inseparable part of her. Now if she wanted to let it go, she had to die.

She thought she would be angry at herself for overlooking hope’s growth, but instead, she just felt lost.

What was she supposed to do now? She had lived a great number of years without it, or at least managed to survive on very little amounts of it. Now she couldn’t deny it anymore, even to herself: she had hope.

It was scary and invigorating and compelling. It was an electric moment that surged through her and threatened to never go away. She was fine with that; she never wanted that beautiful feeling to leave.

But she knew herself. She knew part of her would resist the change and would try to throw the good feelings out. She had to do something. She had to beat her other side to it. Come on! she shouted at the hope inside her. What am I supposed to do with you?

Something! it shouted back.

Great, she murmured. That’s very helpful. Come on! What something do you have in mind?

Anything that you want. I can’t decide that for you. What would that make me?

Umm, helpful? she sighed. She could already feel her other side stirring.

She rummaged around her room in search for anything that clicked, anything that sparked something in her. Notebook? No. Laptop? No. Sketchbook? Double no.

She ran to her phone and turned on her favorite band’s songs. Music always helped her think. It conquered some of the sounds that always shouted and overlapped in her head, minimizing her thoughts to a reasonable number that she believed she could handle. Viva La Vida played on shuffle, and she decided to let go of everything for a while and dance.

She jumped around the room with Chris Martin’s voice, letting the lyrics fill her up and the music soak her soul to the point of overflowing. She imagined her emotions soar and leave her body and start spreading to cover everything in her room. She didn’t cower. She didn’t hesitate. She went on dancing.

And that was when she noticed an instrument so unbelievably clearly in the song for the first time: the electric guitar. As Martin got to the second verse, the sound of the electric guitar suddenly hit her in the face, making her stop moving. She lost herself in the moment, feeling that everything that ever happened to her had all happened to lead her up to that exact moment.

She found her calling.

She held her head. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe that she’d finally found her lost passion. She embraced it like a lifelong friend that she hadn’t seen in years. Indeed, she hadn’t.

She quickly changed and grabbed her car keys and savings and had the GPS lead the way to the nearest musical instruments shop. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, but she was sure she was doing it right. She asked the guy who worked there about the different types of electric guitars and started gathering information about the magical thing. There was panting in her voice that the guy couldn’t overlook, but she didn’t care. She probably wouldn’t meet him again, anyway.

He led her to the electric guitars section and left her alone with a smile to feel less pressure choosing. But she was so excited she hadn’t even noticed him stay or leave. She couldn’t see anything but the row of guitars of all colors and designs lying there in front of her.

She closed her eyes and thought of all the live Coldplay concerts she’d watched and replayed some of the live music in her head. She took a deep breath, and then another, and another. It was so hard to choose.

But I made it this far.

Viva La Vida made its way gracefully to the front of her thoughts. She lost herself in the live concert, and when she opened her eyes, she knew exactly what she wanted.

“Umm, please,” she called for the guy who worked there to come.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll take this one.”

She watched with unseeing eyes as he took if off its shelving and started wrapping it for her. So many fears ran through her as she stretched out her hand with the money. She felt petrified for a moment, wondering what on earth she was doing giving up all her savings like that. She thought about all those months at work to make that money, all the times she’d denied herself things she wanted to keep her savings intact.

But then she remembered the sound of the electric guitar in the second verse of Viva La Vida.

“There you go,” she gave him the money with a smile.

As she held her guitar in her hand, she knew her other side would be back soon, ready to fight. But that was okay.

She was ready too.

September 27th, 2019