How to Leave it All Behind
The end of the year is near, once again. Why does the time go by so fast?
The days are getting colder and the daylight is getting shorter. During this time, the loneliness sneaks up on you so easily. It tries to convince you that the coldness and austerity of the outside has moved into the inside, too. I'm missing the Florida sun and all the love I was learning, exactly one year ago. This year, I am back to snow, old friends, and a familiarity that I have been allowing myself to mistake for boredom. Such a mistake on my part. This kind of familiarity should be defined as a constant stream of love that you get so used to it becomes unrecognizable. It is an extreme privilege to experience this, it is an extreme mistake to let it go unrecognized. My wish for myself, as the year comes to a close, is that I no longer "get used" to the love I am given. I hope I can re-learn to relish in every single bit of it.
I'm sitting here in chorus class right now, listening to the whir of the heater and the sound of the students typing away. I am alone with my thoughts. I'm thinking of all I've learned this year. I'm thinking of the tremendous love I found, that lately I've been forgetting about. I'm thinking of how absolutely differently I see the world, and myself. All I can think, at this moment, is how miraculous it is to be alive. I can see a Christmas tree and I feel at home. I imagine sitting by a fire, drinking a cup of chamomile tea and I get a fluttery feeling that eases my mind. I can think of dogs eating snow or children laughing or being kissed or DANCING or getting goosebumps while listening to a new song. I can think of a million miracles that happen every moment, even when nobody's paying attention. I'm in love with how uniquely each person eats bagels, or what songs they listen to when they're upset. I'm in love with their weird habits and what makes them smile to themselves. In this spiritual moment I'm having, in this otherwise average classroom, I feel the beauty of each human's idiosyncrasies and loves and losses and pain and joy, and I'm overwhelmed. Our existences somehow all weave into one another in fragile, mysterious, yet somehow comforting ways.
The days are getting colder and the daylight is getting shorter. During this time, the loneliness sneaks up on you so easily. It tries to convince you that the coldness and austerity of the outside has moved into the inside, too. I'm missing the Florida sun and all the love I was learning, exactly one year ago. This year, I am back to snow, old friends, and a familiarity that I have been allowing myself to mistake for boredom. Such a mistake on my part. This kind of familiarity should be defined as a constant stream of love that you get so used to it becomes unrecognizable. It is an extreme privilege to experience this, it is an extreme mistake to let it go unrecognized. My wish for myself, as the year comes to a close, is that I no longer "get used" to the love I am given. I hope I can re-learn to relish in every single bit of it.
I'm sitting here in chorus class right now, listening to the whir of the heater and the sound of the students typing away. I am alone with my thoughts. I'm thinking of all I've learned this year. I'm thinking of the tremendous love I found, that lately I've been forgetting about. I'm thinking of how absolutely differently I see the world, and myself. All I can think, at this moment, is how miraculous it is to be alive. I can see a Christmas tree and I feel at home. I imagine sitting by a fire, drinking a cup of chamomile tea and I get a fluttery feeling that eases my mind. I can think of dogs eating snow or children laughing or being kissed or DANCING or getting goosebumps while listening to a new song. I can think of a million miracles that happen every moment, even when nobody's paying attention. I'm in love with how uniquely each person eats bagels, or what songs they listen to when they're upset. I'm in love with their weird habits and what makes them smile to themselves. In this spiritual moment I'm having, in this otherwise average classroom, I feel the beauty of each human's idiosyncrasies and loves and losses and pain and joy, and I'm overwhelmed. Our existences somehow all weave into one another in fragile, mysterious, yet somehow comforting ways.
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