Blue morning, blue morning, wrapped in strands of fist and bone

I made a new friend recently.  We haven't talked very often, but we've generally talked about things that are a little deeper than surface.  

Tonight, I shared a post from this blog with him, and he asked me if I still feel the way I did when I wrote it.  I said I do, and then told him that I use the stars as a frame of reference for times like these.  See, the stars are fixed in the sky, so compared to them, it's hard to say we're really moving at all.  He suggested that I should probably change my reference point if that's not how I wanted to feel.  He said that it was important that I be who I feel I am on the inside, no matter what others' opinion of my doing so is.

And the whole thing reminded me a lot of Counting Crows...

"Curiosity, kitten,
Doesn't have to mean youre on your own
You can look outside your window
He doesn't have to know
We can talk awhile, baby
We can take it nice and slow"

And a little later,

"There's a bird that nests inside you
Sleeping underneath your skin
When you open up your wings to speak
I wish you'd let me in"

Of course, I'd always heard "bird that nests" as "perfectness," but either image leads to the wings, and to not having to wander in solitude.  If I don't want to live my life closed off from everyone, I shouldn't have to.  And if I want to feel like I'm going somewhere, all I have to do is go somewhere.

My new reference point... I think it should be how much I've learned about life.