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Thursday, August 5, 2010

Breathing Life.

I watch people. I'm not talking about sitting on Facebook and flipping through people's pages I barely know, getting acquainted with who is pregnant, married, or writing annoying boyfriend/girlfriend messages on each other's walls (which if you do this, honestly, it makes me want to throw up). Frankly, I don't give a damn about half of the people I'm friends with on Facebook; If I have to 'creep' on you to know if you're still alive, obviously, our relationship has had its falling out.
But really, I watch people. I, for some reason unbeknown to myself, can sit (and have) and watch people for hours. Sometimes, I end up having to leave due to how disgusted I am by people. This normally happens when I see parents, and yes, unfortunately and normally, parents no older than I am, with no idea in how to discipline their children. I'm not saying I know how to discipline a child either, but this is why I don't have one...and, cross my fingers and do a lucky Irish-jig, I won't for a long, long, longggg time.
Other times, though, I see something that makes my day. Today, for instance: I was out at Walmart (I've dubbed this place Satan's Asshole...If you've ever been to Hanover's, you know why.) Today, I actually witnessed something so simple and yet adorable: A mother with children, the youngest, a girl, in the cart, no older than 2; the oldest, a boy no older than seven. He pushed the cart, all the while making his baby sister laugh and giggle. I probably am more attached to this sentimental moment because I have an older brother who once did this with me (before he got older and tried to take the shopping cart on two wheels while I was in it). The sibling bonding during that intimate moment touched me.
What got me even more was what the boy said to his mother while walking past me: "Mommy..." Andddd I didn't catch the rest. For some reason, 'mommy' got me. God, call it womanly hormones or what you will, but this melted my heart. I can only pray that if and when I have kids (lucky Irish-jig inserted here), I am blessed to hear that word several thousand times before my little boy grows up.
The simple things like 'mommy', babies smiling, and numerous other things have really struck me recently as being some of the most pleasing experiences in my life. A cup of coffee while talking with my mother means so much to me now. The simple good morning kiss from my dog still makes me giggle. And finding a good book means the world to me. In a nutshell, I wish everyone had as comfortable of a life as I have so they could enjoy life. Yes, my outlook at times is relative to my experiences, and of course there are days where I think I have it 'rough'. But when I think that there are people out there who cannot bask in the sound of rain over their head, not because they're so busy with life and have become ignorant to the simplicity of life, but because there is no roof above them... it's heart-wrenching to me.
Then there are the people so wrapped up in work, constantly on their Blackberry, checking email, traveling, that they forget or just don't care about the simple things anymore. I find this saddening, too...
I want to breathe in life. I will wake my lazy, teenage self up one weekend, and I will watch the sunrise with my cup of coffee and the birds singing to the world. I find myself enjoying rainstorms more every time they blow in. At the beach, I avoided lying and tanning, but walked for miles along the shore, watching people, letting the surf kiss my feet. During the night, I perk my ears for the sound of the train off in the distance, sounding it's whistle. And although I'm not much for organized religion and haven't been to church in months, the synchronized turning of the semi-translucent pages of the Bible are comforting, the reason unknown to myself. My list of simple things I enjoy starts with the coffeepot I keep up at school; it takes a long time to brew, but the aroma and sound of the water heating is such a pleasant thing to wake to find. The list ends with my walks in cemeteries; not that I find peace in the morbidness of death, but at how much life there is embodied there! Think about all of the people that lived, what they did with the proverbial 'dash' in between their birth and death dates... if only tombstones were full biographies. And the dash in between said coffeepot and cemetery walks; filled to the brim with laughter, sunshine, and good conversation.
As the Mark DeRose Band puts it in "Breathing Life": "I wanna take the time to breathe in this life...".
I'll drink to that.

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