Living Every Breath

I have been away.

I have been away in all ways.  Away in my thoughts.  Away in my dreams.  Away in the clouds.  I live much of my life away from my present.

That has been on my mind quite a bit lately.  Where I want to have been when I die.  How I want to be remembered.  Because that's what life all adds up to, right?

My cynical side is shining.

As I've mentioned before, as a child I would go to this little place called Amberland.  Even in my adult life, I long for my place.  For a life free from worry or stress.  A life in which you could enjoy each other to your fullest extents so as when each person's time did inevitably come, we would look to one another glad to see them write out their book.  A happy ending.  One that meant every word.

It's funny how easy it is to turn off your feelings and plug in.  To stare at a screen and forget what's happening.  Gone are the days of Grandma's famous cookie recipe.  Why do we need these special bonds when we have all of the recipes at our fingertips?  There's no need to call home when you try to boil noodles for the first time and realize you've never actually done it and you're praying there's not more to it.  Just use Google to save face.

In Amberland there would be no technology.  We would have to journey to find one another or pen a letter and send it by Pony Express.  (There has always been a Pony Express in Amberland.  Who wouldn't want post from a pony?)  We would look one another in the eye.  Ring doorbells for cups of flour and stay for tea.

If you like this, you may enjoy: Perpetuality

My Life is SO Over....

Worst moment of my life at age 5: I hit someone in my class, therefore I was to sit, legs crossed on the floor, on top of my hands for a solid year and twelve days (in my mind, at least...).  I felt like all eyes were on me.  Who sits on their own hands?  Never again did I hit someone at school.

Worst moment of my life at age 7: I'm a nervous pee-er.  Meaning, when I get nervous, my legs shake and shortly thereafter, my bladder starts sending "Release me now!!!!" signals to my brain.  Point being.. as a small child, I hadn't learned to control this just yet, and peed myself in front of all of my friends during a kickball game.  I was pitching.  (Being the center of attention has never been one of my strong points....)

Age 12:  Jesse Boobie (Names changed for privacy and redemption reasons) announced to the entire lunchroom that he loved me...  Only to be followed up with a snarky remark about the declaration's ridiculousness.  I remember the diary entry.  I was mortified.

Age 14:  The times my mother picked me up in the old blue-striped van with curtains inside.. from band practice no less.  This is my most superficial 'worst moment of my life.'  I now realize this and this is one of the reasons I will never be unappreciative of a running engine taking my bum where it needs to go again in my life.

When I was 17, my parents took my car away.  That foggy morning in my driveway, waiting for the bus.. I thought that was the worst moment, for sure.  My life was ending.  I was going to arrive at school .. at HIGH school .. as a 17-year-old on that "big, yellow cheese."

I like to relate my, now, "big girl problems," to these problems.  To the times I thought there was certainly no coming back from something.  Cheers to those times.  To helping me realize, that life does, will, cannot stop from going on.  Unless it does.  But I'm not dead yet.  And the longer I live, the more 'worst moments of my life' there will be..

I just have to remember, I've gotten over my 'worsts.'  And in the end, ironically, they're quite laughable.  No matter how long I remember them, they will have shaped me, nonetheless.

So, here's to the 'worsts' in life!

(All photo credits: Pink Hedgehog Photos)

Paralyzed

I've only ever known a few people who have died.  I was too young to understand when my great grandfather passed.  I decided not to go to, my beloved bus driver, Ms. Lynn's funeral when I was older and part of me regrets that.

Funerals muster up a feeling in me reminiscent to the one I had as a child, lying in bed, in the dark, and mulling over eternity and the absence of life in a human being.  The wrenching and twisting started in the very base of my stomach, tensing my entire core, until my lungs felt as though they were constricting.  I remember rushing into the living room many nights past bedtime and hyperventilating whilst attempting to explain my utter incomprehension of 'forever' to my father .

As I have gotten older, I can't say these emotions have vanished.  Repressing the physical breakdown has gotten easier, but the feeling.. something like the first hill of a roller coaster flip of the stomach, hasn't subsided when I think about dying.  

I fear enough for all of us.  Fear for the singularity and finality of the event for one individual.  It's hard to admit, and I'm not being harsh, but we all die alone.  

One of my favorite characters said once,  "To die would be an awfully great adventure."  

I keep telling myself to think like this in order to fully enjoy the adventure available to me while I am still here and breathing, rather than losing my breath over something no one can predict.