Golden Globe

A golden globe, I would love to have a golden globe. Actually, I suppose it wouldn't start golden, probably translucent instead, just waiting to be filled so it may glow. Who knows what golden-hued, warm moments you may place inside it, but I know what would fill mine to capacity. They often occur right before sleep carries me away, these most inspired moments. Golden, really, is the only way to describe them because they fill me with pure happiness, real optimism, motivation, passion...life, I just feel the hope and wonder of life. Nothing can stop the little me in my brain at those moments. She is dancing around, accomplishing, creating, inspiring. She is without fear and ready to conquer all. A glorious moment, and yet sadly, it often is only a moment. In the morning she has been hidden once again by her oppressors, the evil Fatigue and SelfDoubt. Here is where the globe would play its part. I pluck that strand of optimism, motivation, in all of its glowing glory, and place it inside the globe for a rainy day. A mental rainy day.

And it is true that sometimes a whole day covers me in the glowing, golden dust of unadulterated happiness. A day when the sun remembers to shine and I remember to smile and people remember they need each other. So just as I plucked the golden moment strand I would collect this golden day dust and sprinkle it into the globe as well.

There are other times as well when drops of gold rain in the form of love. Maybe it was my parents who started the rain, or a look from my brother, or a call from my sister, or a hug from a friend. Whatever instigates the rain, it always leaves me stronger than before, with an incredible sense of invincibleness, unlike that which any superhero may claim to experience. Of course that rain too must be mixed into the globe.

And the globe would follow me, glowing. Bobbing just behind my right shoulder, glowing and waiting. For that mental rainy day, when everything is running short; my patience, my strength, my motivation, my love. On those days I would merely reach behind me, draw from the bowl a fragment of gold, and that would stop the rain. Those golden feelings would never be so easily forgotten, left behind. Instead, they would remain at my fingertips. How beautiful that would be.