Serenity

I am waiting at a bus stop, after getting lost and getting on the wrong bus.  The Metro had stopped for the night and the streets existed devoid of people.  A few partiers are finding their way home.  Workers either from the night or for the morning wait along side me.  Although the bus stop was rather large, it was quiet.  A few teenagers laughed across the street and the bus conductors chatted by their posts,  their voices carried across the empty streets. 

I have been told, "think of your happy place", whenever I became overwhelmed by my current situation. 
I am in Paris now.  My daydreams are few and far between.  I have let my school anxiety get the best of me.  I am writing this instead of my papers.
My friend was concerned when I told her that my happy place was jumping off a cliff and running my hands along the pray wheels in the Hymalan Mountains.
I tried to explain the beauty of cliff diving to her, although I do not feel I fully convinced her. 
About three years ago,  I watched a travel video rented from my public library.  It was the Alternative Routes special on Greece.  The young backpackers jumped off a protruding rock into the warm, clear waters on one of Greece's many islands.  I became fascinated by the beauty of it.
I watched all of their videos and have become in love with every place they went to. 
My fascination would not return until two years ago, when I stumbled upon a well executed Go-Pro filmed cliff diving video.  I have watched it a million times. 

The video made it look so fun.  During the dark times of that year,  I would remember this video and smile.  I would smile, not because I wanted to be them, but because I knew one day I would feel that.  I envisioned myself standing at the edge.  My heart would be at full speed and all I would have to was let go.  The only thing that was holding me back was myself. 

I became glued to this feeling and watched countless videos of cliff divers.  I focused on the ones I considered realistic.  (Not the insane heights that those competing in the Red Bull competitions did).

When I could feel my mind becoming overcrowded,  I would envision myself alone on the rock looking into the clear, light blue water that was there to hold me.  I would gracefully jump into the air. I had to let everything go.  For those few moments I was in the air,  I was floating.  There would be nothing holding me back.  It was a moment of calmness.  In that moment,  I should have been calm,  an unnatural calm.  By jumping and letting go, it was a sign that I was letting someone else take care of me.  I was trusting the Universe, per say.  Whatever would happen, was suppose to happen.  This was a comforting thought, when I was being constantly told that I was unprepared or not thinking enough about my future.

I would put on Violet's in a Pool by Tamaryn and forget it all. 

It was serenity for me.

*I have never been cliff diving, only in my mind.  *

An interesting thing occurred this past weekend.  This moment of serenity,  I had always envisioned occurred, occurred in the most unusual way. 
Serenity, in my eyes,  is an overwhelming calm feeling.  Its the feeling you get and you do not know why.  You know you should not feel calm and yet there is something telling you so.  You are of clear mind and serenity presents itself. 

It is 4 AM in Paris on a previous Saturday night. 

I should have been scared.  I had gotten on the wrong bus, although I was not far from home. It had been a long day and I just wanted to get home.
I sat on the bench and I was at ease.
The crisp morning air was the perfect tempiture.  The streets were so quiet that they were quieter than the noise that constantly surrounds my Chicago home.  I could only hear the soft chatter of the kids across the street and the sound of my heart beating. 
I got this overwhelming feeling of calmness when I knew I should not have felt this way.
It was serenity.