Spinning | Brightside
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26 Jun Spinning

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tumblr_m658lxe49W1qhq5uoo1_500[dropcap size=big]H[/dropcap]e died and I began spinning. Not spinning in the way that was typical of an excited or nervous brain, but spinning in a way I had never known. I was in unchartered territory here. I was the spinning top of Inception, moving at dizzying speeds across a wooden table. Leo DiCaprio couldn’t get enough of me. Spinning top I was, moving faster and faster and faster all at once. There was no time to throw up or cry or pass out. The spinning kept going and going and going. Unforgiving, the spinning, that foisted itself upon me.

I looked around to try to gauge some point of reference, where was everybody else with the news? A few others were spinning too, and that gave me a sense of comfort. But, we were still alone in all our spinning. We were all pushed at different rates, twirling with differing degrees of severity. No spins were the same.

And yet, it seemed like some people around me weren’t spinning at all. They, instead, were tirelessly standing still. They were frozen, with placid stares, ambivalent faces. They spoke slowly, and purposefully. They were rife with numbers, logic, and reason. They slowly broke out of their paralysis into slow states of rhythmic dance. And they danced through the days with a spirit-shattering monotony.

There were others, still, who chose to furrow in the dirt. The earth provided a warm shelter into which they could nestle their back ends, hoping for some grounding stability. With their eyes at feet-level and their bodies sub-zero, they too found themselves handicapped, crippled by the barriers of the earth. They stayed there for quite some time, while the rain poured down on their exposed heads, leaving their hair in disheveled heaps on their craniums, their eyelashes tired from all the work sheltering their eyes.

Slowly, but surely, my spinning started to slow. The images around me begin to come into clarity; the world in which I live puts itself back together. The arrangement, however, is different. The chemical composition of the environment has been forever altered. This young man, this ball of energy, is no longer the same compilation of compounds and gases and solids and liquids anymore. His presence in the lives of the spinners, the freezers, and the diggers was gone. He will never know the monumental impact his absence has left in the hearts and lives of those he leaves behind.

“Do not pity the dead, pity the living. And, above all, those who live without love.” Today, if you love somebody, be sure they know just how much. Share with your special person the impact he or she has in your life. Embrace his/her presence with love, gratitude, and respect. You never know when you will be left alone to deal with his/her absence, wondering when the spinning will stop.


Rest in paradise, Dono.

Let’s Talk Transcendentalism,


Shawna Rodgers

My name is Shawna Marie Rodgers and I am a sprightly English major currently taking a break from higher education to pursue a life of simplicity. My physical body is 22-years of age, but I’ve always felt that it houses the soul of a 90-year old woman. A “Norcal” girl born and bred, I am an ever-curious student of life constantly seeking out information in any realm that interests me. The past two years of my life have been highlighted by a commitment to living a spiritual journey, which has been the biggest single influence in my writing. I revel at the opportunity to share my perspective with the word via Brightside. Since this is a music-based enterprise, I feel it pertinent to mention that my favorite artists are Van Morrison, Billy Joel, Macklemore, Ray La Montagne, and Ben Gibbard. That being said, I can also bust out a mean Eminem rhyme whilst going 40 in a 25. Feel free to email me at smrodgers10@gmail.com if you’d like to talk transcendentalism.