Pursuit of new experiences: A story of an Easter inspired discovery

Written to document a new experience of freedom 

10:17

17/4/22

Sunday, an own form of resurrection

@ places outside of my bedroom

 

Dear World,

This Easter Sunday, at 10:17, I felt extra satisfied about catching the tram that was about to depart (in exactly three minutes) to Elmers End. I got there after 16 stops from Wandsworth on the bus, where I drifted on and off to a series of daydreams. I looked out the window as if I was watching the movements of my thoughts passing through London neighbourhoods towards the south east. I surprisingly stayed alert through another 15 stops and finally found myself at Wellesley Road, relatively on time to meet a friend from school, Eve. 

Earlier in the morning, I woke up pleased for the day's plan, starting off with my routined activities before texting Eve: “Hi Eve, I’ll aim for 10:50 outside the church. See you soon!”.

As I headed to the bathroom for a shower around 9, I found my flatmate, Hue, in the kitchen, preparing breakfast with his friend Rob. He normally gave a heads up in the past to ocassions like this, when his friends and sister, visited our flat. Not that it's necessary but because we've established a very formal flatmates relationship, which makes us more aware of each other's actions. But I was completely in the dark this time. "I wonder why he didn't say anything", I thought to myself.

After getting dressed, I was rushing to leave in case the bus might bring me additional hassles to deny me a good day, as often experienced in the past for travelling publicly on a Sunday.

As I was scanning through the shoe rack in the hallway for the best pair of shoes to go with my dress, my flatmate Hue, along with his two other friends, Flo and Rob, greeted me with “Happy Easter” and invited me to breakfast they prepared to celebrate Easter with my third flatmate, Bella. 

“Happy Easter to you too! Oh, I’m sorry I’m running late already, I'm meeting a friend to church this morning, sorry I didn’t know you planned this”, I responded regrettably. 

“Oh, I didn’t see you yesterday and I forgot to tell you, that’s a shame. We’re going to church too but later.", said Hue.

They all stared at me as the pressure of the situation made me lose my cool, in a way that I struggled to put on a pair of shoes. One shoe catapulted towards the door as I forced my foot into it. 

"How embarrassing!", I said with sighing eyes on the floor, as I tied the lace of the other shoe that was successfully put on.

“You look good!”, Rob commented back.

“Thanks, I would have loved to join you for breakfast, it’s very sweet but I have to go now because I’ll be late. Enjoy your breakfast!”, I said to everyone. 

I thought I looked good too with distinct freshness in my face from a good night sleep, that reflected the sunlight agreeably. I was somehow pleased that they were there to see it briefly, and even took notice.

I wore a long-sleeved, wool dress in khaki that fell on my knees in a skater style. My hair was tied lowly in a bun on the side of my neck, which I had wrapped in a printed satin handkerchief. My purse was a plain white fabric tote bag, where I secured essential things like headphones, a portable charger, napkins, snacks and my raspberry tint in case I’d need a retouch on my lips and cheeks.

Before leaving, I peeked through the living room where the guys had set up the table in the middle of the room (it’s normally pushed to a corner, out of everyone’s way), with dishes of food laid down, plates, cutleries, coffee cups and Prosecco glasses. I thought that was lovely and I smiled to myself appreciatively.

This was around 9:30, the guys had almost completed the table, and were already dressed for the occasion wearing their Sunday smart shirts and blue jeans. I thought to myself: “Wow, they must have been up early, what a great effort!”.

Bella came out of her room and I wished her a Happy Easter before I stepped out.

The sunshine was steadily breaking through the clouds as I walked through a pleasantly quiet Garratt Lane, towards my bus stop, infront of Southside (shopping centre). I felt inspired by the morning. It was 16 degrees Celsius and the breeze was sufficiently cool.

Through the long bus and tram journeys, my thoughts were as bright as the sunny day. I found myself smiling at the randomness of these thoughts and memories, stirred by the spring/summer coloured surroundings. They consisted of memories as recent as a few days, back to my school days and beyond. I felt a rush of excitement through my veins as I grew more aware of London’s quirks to document in my future diaries. This Easter Sunday felt like my very own awakening. I quietly claimed my dreams of building my ideal world in words, as the day of Jesus’ resurrection was also celebrated. 

I found two people by the entrance of the church building, who greeted me with friendly smiles. I walked in awkwardly as I tried to scan for Eve in the lounge area. A man by the desk asked to see inside my tote bag, but I couldn’t hear him through my headphones and appeared initially confused by his eye contact, and the movement of his mouth. It made me embarrassed so I went for the toilet shortly after but mainly because I needed it. Another woman approached me as I entered further in, to ask me to fill out a prayer form. “I’m sorry I need the toilet first”, I responded with a soft voice. I realised that I arrived first so I texted Eve to let her know I was there.

When I came out, I found Eve talking to two girls. I could have said hello to them or introduced myself but I didn’t. But they equally could have introduced themselves, I thought.

“Oh, here she is”, Eve told the other girls. I assumed she was telling them that she was meeting me. “We’ll meet you inside,” she continued.

“Hi Eve, it’s been awhile!”, as I leaned for a hug. I wanted to reclaim a few years of disconnection through the hug, though I felt awkward after seeing her, and I strangely didn’t know what to say. My social interaction procedure was immediately disrupted by the alcohol I could smell from her. I went on to a guessing mode, and slowly arrived at a conclusion that it lingered from the previous night’s celebrations. I thought to myself that while I didn't drink the night before and was asleep by 10pm, the majority of people were celebrating with families that involved alcohol. "Duh" I said to myself. I felt slightly conscious but quickly moved from it as Eve grabbed my hand.

She held on to my hand, which I initially thought was bizarre, but I came quickly acustommed to it and even appreciated it. We walked like that as if I was being held by mum through a busy city street to stop me from getting lost. That was a nice thought, that made me feel at ease, stimulated by Eve's idiosyncrasy. We walked into a dark theatre, with dazzling stage lights greeting our eyes intensly before we found our seats in a row following five rows in front.

While waiting for everyone to settle down, Eve and I briefly exchanged updates on each other’s lives- mainly about our church activities and Cationa (my bestfriend, who brought us together). We didn’t talk much actually, and the pauses in between were making me uncomfortable. At one point, I searched for the Easter egg chocolate in my bag. It was offered to us at the entrance and I took the liberty to grab two to add to my snacks. I broke the silence when I expressed my surprise for the white chocolate inside. I expected it to be milk chocolate and my disappointment was heared as I unwrapped it. Eve didn’t have anything to reply to it, as I wouldn’t have if she was in my position. I just ate it quietly and stared at the stage with sparkles in my eyes, looking at the performers getting themselves ready to lead the worship singing. 

The worship singing is my favourite part. The lyrics in the song express so much of my beliefs in God, paired with the pleasure of hearing beautiful music composition, consisting primarily of guitar sounds, drums and the lovely voices of four lead singers. The lyrics are always placed on the big screen during worship to engage everyone in singing along. It's revolutionary to me. It is exactly like attending the best rock concert, about my highest vision of intelligence, God.

A speaker came out to welcome everyone into the Easter Sunday at church, and encouraged a game of bible fact riddles to win a prize of Easter chocolate bundles. Someone had won “I must be taken up” with her answer of the “cross”. Another won “I am carved in stones”, with the right answer of “grave”. 

After the formalities , as the first song began, everyone stood up and Eve grabbed my hand again to hold. At first I was distracted by it, with the awareness that people could see it differently. I was growing weary that they might have assumed we were a couple. I stopped my self when the first song diverted my mind into a deep resonance to the words about my feelings for God. I was exhilarated and everyone there except Eve, who was connected to my senses through our hands, disappeared from my consciousness. I sang to my heart’s content and glanced down at Eve with smiles in between songs (she's shorter by a substantial few inches). I saw her tears run down half way through a song, about Jesus' sufferings'. As I saw her cry, I felt Jesus pain inside of me and my own eyes surrendered to tears too, against my will.

We held hands through the five worship songs. I had many thoughts that were conflicting at first, but I freed myself from them and enjoyed the strangeness of this church meeting. This is especially because I haven’t seen her for many years; I never held hands with any of my friends as far as I was aware, and I kept thinking about the misunderstandings it could spring from others. I whispered to an empty space, for God to help me be freed from it. With Eve's hand clasped in mine, with years of gap between us and without exchanging many words to begin with, I felt God's presence. My thoughts stopped on the spot, and I continued singing with genuine delight and a new sense of freedom. 

The preach then started about forgiveness. I struggled with concentration here, because I couldn’t help analysing the speaker beyond her words. It wasn’t the content of her speech that was affecting me, because I agreed with everything she was saying fully. It was the way she presented herself, and bringing many demonstrations of her points through a tennis ball and a water bottle. I felt like she was talking to us as if we were her little children. I couldn’t bring myself to listen wholly, and coulndn't control myself from yawning repeatedly. I was on the verge of falling asleep with my chin leaning on my hand. I was trying so hard to sit up, not to cause any scene for people take notice but failed. In my mind, people behind me could see the disrespect of my body language at the time. I'm sure I could have handled it better because I have complete control of my body's actions. But instead, I rested in my faith that despite the contradictions of my actions during the preach, I was at peace that God could see what was truly in my mind. I didn't feel the need to act based on what others could read or not read about me, and I apologised quietly for my judgements of the speaker’s methodical choices for demonstrating God’s words. 

It ended with more worship songs. Eve and I walked out of the theatre together into the sunshine, and spoke about meeting again for the next Sunday service and she added that I’m welcome to visit her in her house anytime. "Yes, definitely!", I replied as the sun was draining any enthusiasm left in me in the form of dehydration- I had forgotten my water bottle and my last water intake was early in the morning.

I caught the tram back to Wimbledon station, I put my big headphones on and detached myself from the noise of the crowded space for the next 15 stops. I was in a state of unberable drainage from the heat that I couldn’t tolerate to take another long bus ride. I jumped into the south east railway at Wimbledon instead, where I found myself at Waterloo after I napping through my stop, at Clapham Junction where I could have taken a one stop ride to my house. The next train to Wandsworth was due in another 20 minutes. I listened to Haruki Murakami's memoirs for the rest of the journey back home, where half of this day had beaten me to a long nap.

In summary, my Easter Sunday revealed new things to inspire my future actions. The strangeness of holding hands with a distant friend, or anyone I'm not intimate with, makes me happy. My thoughts will be let off into London neighbourhoods with a better pair of eyes, intently looking for lovely new discoveries that exist under the cloaks of "normalities".

Sincerely,

An Easter hatched egg