"Miles from Any Shoreline" | Sarah Kay | TED

I frequently miss entire days caught in my brain’s spider webs but if I happen to look up in time to notice that the darkness still has a little daylight left to swallow I will ivy up the fire escape to catch whatever embers of the day are still slow dying behind New Jersey and last week through the fog of my loneliness I realized the living room was slippery pink which I knew meant a light show must be on display so with a quickness I reserve for emergencies I scampered to the roof and sure enough an explosion of upside-down clementine cotton candy cloud wisps was tie-dyeing the Hudson River neon and I swear I am not a lightweight but I was colordrunk immediately dizzy with gasp and skyward-reaching hoping my fingers might find a bell I could ring that would summon all of New York City to look up! and west! but there was no bell and no one to call just my own astonishment still willing to answer after the first ring how predictable: one good sunset and I release my nihilism like rose petals behind a bridal gown look I have married my cynicism and renewed my vows but it didn’t stop the streetlights from coming on at the exact moment I passed beneath them when nobody else was in the park to see it like the whole city was winking and yes I blushed the way I do whenever someone beautiful flirts with me I haven’t stopped thinking about death I am just wringing every last jaw-drop from the tissue between heartbreaks On a long run outside the city along a highway and miles from any shoreline I found a starfish alone on the asphalt an unsolvable mystery with no witness to corroborate and there I was again wandering the streets of Bewilderville: Population 1 what else could I possibly do but swing wide the doors of my delight to this patron saint of unbelonging fragile and whole and so far from home if you too have been the one nobody asked to dance I’ve got a starfish I’d love to introduce you to and I don’t have any proof but one time the wind or my ancestors or unseasonal warmth carried three hawks to my kitchen windowsill to rattle my coffin to cocoon and two of them left but one of them stayed eyed me through the glass like a promise or a dare and so lately I am trying to pick up when the universe calls (Applause)