This is from August, the night we ran away to watch the Perseid meteor shower

The night we stopped dreaming from behind the confines of our screens. Traded for glimmers of hope, fleeting flashes of light that dance across the sky. Scientifically speaking, they are just meteors – fragments of dust or sand, speeding through space, crashing through the Earth’s atmosphere, creating brilliant streaks across the midnight sky

Little tiny pieces of sand, yet somehow we see rays of hope

Hope for tomorrow. Hope that something greater is out there. Hypnotized; a gaze of childlike wonder and awe permanently fixed to our faces

Aren’t we all made from stardust? From dust we came, and dust we will return. We don’t refer to burning meteorites as so; To us, they are magic – we cry out, “Look! A shooting star!” If we were intentional with our words, aren’t we all just shooting stars? Intensely burning with fire and passion the moment we enter into Earth’s atmosphere. We are a symphony, a song to the stars. The melody of the universe playing out across the land.

Are you ready to leave? I’ve got all the pictures I need. They ask in unison, dropping to their screens.
No. No, I’m not, because this present moment is enough, and nothing is ever enough, we’re all chasing after the something better. The false promise that the grass is greener on the other side. That they’re all having a better time at that party. But I want to water this pasture and create my own meadow. I want to be in this present moment, I want to soak it all in, let it drench my thoughts and fall in love with it again and again.

To live – everyday like this, without holding back. To be present and see all the shooting stars