tradition

The great thing about traditions is that it somehow brings together the past, present and future. You'll always be recalling all those times over the past x years you've crashed on that couch, and how you'd realise you're doing exactly the same thing but just in a different beach house this summer, and there's always those moments when you let yourself imagine what you'll be doing differently (or what you would do again) next time.

Traditions also always have an origin story: When somebody has a great idea and the initiative to actually go through with it and you all realise fairly quickly that it's freaking awesome. It's great for bringing people together, and for keeping them together with this collective memory. I was really happy when I learned that Pei remembers getting embarrasingly lost with me the first time we visited Liberty Grove. It was terrible at the time and we missed multiple trains, but hey, it's our memory.

The sky was open tonight again, and on my way home from church I decided to pull over at the look out I always wanted to pull over at, and stargaze. There were lights on the horizon although I don't know where from. Dots of orange, white, and blue that shimmered as if they were projected on water. It was pretty beautiful, but nothing compared to the lights above the horizon. Whenever I look up at a sky like that the scene in Lion King plays in my mind where Timon and Pumba speculate on what stars are. Hilarious.

The stars were perfectly random across the sky, and the longer I stayed out there, the more stars appeared. I went out there to think and figure things out but for a fair amount of time all I could think about was the sheer beauty and magnitude of it all. How distracting. But the cold air was sweet, the grass soft, and the moon bright. And I thought about life and love and why. I thought about God, the universe, and me. And I thought about how it'd be totally awesome if I did this every Tuesday night on my way home from church.