Climbing the Confines

Passing worn pavement at 75 miles per hour, my extended hand glides on top of the air. I close my eyes for a split second just to see if I can. When I open them I realize we're all silently looking at the passing cars and foliage, music flowing from the speakers to our senses. We're in the time of silence, when all that immediately needed to be said has been said. There is nothing we don't know about one another. Only the things we've always wanted to say but haven't are hidden away in the dark corners of our minds. I snap back into reality.
I am wasting money, I am wasting time, I should be home, but I am following a pipe dream to a city 400 miles away.
And
I
feel
free.
Placating dreams of living life to the fullest, I push the thoughts aside.
"Oh cause I can see your ships from here, now all the weather so bright and clear", he belts off the stage into the crowded theatre. His violin sends a sweet melodic sound that flows from the speakers to our senses. We are assigned to a movement constricting seating arrangement. We have seats 10, 11, and 12, all of about 4 ft. to move with the music. There are senior citizens everywhere, maintaining the peace by asking people to stay in there seats. When our restlessness climbed to a slow boil, we pushed over the confines and past the senior ushers, dancing our way down the aisle to the front of the stage, Mr. Bird providing the soundtrack to our recklessness.
And
I
feel
free.

Speeding Tickets are Terrible Reminders of How Little Money You Have to Your Name

I don't care what belief, non-belief, denomination, theory you have. I just don't understand how some people believe there is no higher power.

I was walking through campus today and just the simple beauty of lightly falling snow was enough to push any doubt of God's nonexistence out of my mind. I find myself experiencing these humbling reminders throughout the day. Sometimes I go a few days without thinking about it, too wrapped up in my own head to appreciate anything or anyone's beauty. But it always happens eventually. And it's one of my favorite parts of being alive.
Whether you're Buddhist, Christian, Muslim, Sikh, Jewish, or any other spiritual view, I think we as human beings can all appreciate it the same way, under God. I consider myself a Christian-Catholic, but it's a universal recognition.

There has to be a creator. How else could the human race be able to internalize and recognize such simple splendor as dying leaves on trees (fall) or in creating a friendship or relationship with someone. There is some other power at work. I love this quote I heard recently:
"I believe if there's any kind of God it wouldn't be in any of us, not you or me but just this little space in between. If there's any kind of magic in this world it must be in the attempt of understanding someone sharing something. I know, it's almost impossible to succeed but who cares really? The answer must be in the attempt."

I've been viewing the world in a new mindset recently, trying to get in touch with my naive side. I want to experience some things for the first time again. I've seen a person laugh hundreds of thousands of times before. But when was the last time I really appreciated it. That exuberant outburst of joy. It's so great.
I know, I probably sound ridiculous right now, but I don't care. We get too wrapped up in our lives to appreciate the raw beauty of the world we live in. I can't imagine what it would be like if I was never able to see someone laugh again. Or cry, or fall, or dance, or sing, or make awkward small talk. I just realized how much I take it all for granted.
Call this some incandescent youthful realization, call it whatever you like. Just remember the simple things you take for granted.
It's too easy to be cynical and discerning in this world. That's how I am most of the time. Lately, I've been trying to make sure there is an equal amount of positivity in my viewing of the world.



...or, this all could just be result of the new Andrew Bird album I've been listening to constantly. Go. Listen to it now.