Muddled

When you make a mojito, you muddle all of the ingredients together. Pre-packaged mixes are sugary imitations. You have to put your heart and your bicep into it--and crush the mint with the sugar, and the ice. Its not enough to just add them all to the glass---shaking won't do the trick, its the muddle that makes it worthwhile to drink.

Life is muddled. Its crushed together with heart and bicep. Its forced and cobbled sometimes, but then sometimes it just comes together as the most wonderful combination. We imbibe ourselves on the juicy and sometimes sour combinations that life gives us. Bottoms up.

This weekend I walked along the beach and searched for seashells and promise. Watched the fury of the waves, and realized how life comes in waves. That the currents pull you toward pain and risk but also toward strong arms. That the waves are as natural as the bad dreams. That a seashell can be as precious as a pearl of wisdom.

Lately, life has felt muddled, and from time to time I've felt drunk on melodrama. But then I sat outside, squinted in the sun, faced my companion, tasted the cold drink and asked for another.