In the early morning, last spring, I snapped this photo. I was living outside, no tent, no car, owning only the clothes on my back and my guitar. I had walked all night to stay warm and the murky light breaking through the fog was the first sign of the warmth that would cradle my existence for the rest of the day. I was tired, but could not help but appreciate the nature of my own small existence.
These lakes lay placidly in between North Bend and Empire, Oregon. It was so quiet and still. Even the birds were silent. The air was still, thickening as the sun began to warm the ecosystem around me. This was another one of those moments when it didn't matter what I'd lost. It didn't matter how many cold and sleepless nights that I had pressed through. It did not matter if I had seen the bad side of human nature and the rejection of society. None of this mattered.
What I found there, as I had found before, is this reminder: all the ugliness of the world is a facade. To be downtrodden in the midst of such beauty, is the only thing that can limit us from receiving all the blessings of the infinite universe.
How could I be so unappreciative to complain? As I feel the air, softly, meandering across the billions of nerve endings in my skin, how could I give dissent? I saw a vision of myself, ascending from the ashes of a broken life. I am a work in progress, but I am grateful for the journey. After all, cliche's aside, that is what life is.
-Article and photo by Jonathan Caleb Williams
