Moments Like These...
In moments like these, I always wonder what I'm missing. The majority of my life is spent glad that I've taken the safe route, glad that I've not taken the risks that frighten me so. The majority of my life, I'm so happy to be in the dark that I can't fathom ACTUALLY being out in the big, bad world with all the real people and things and experiences.
But tonight, I'm wondering what is happening out there. I was driving back from Starbucks after meeting with Lauren, introspective (like I always am) after a significant dose of caffiene, and the raw, harsh feel and smell of the rain and salt hit me. It was like the ocean was its own being, rising up from its normal boundaries and filling the air with its raw, salty power. It felt real...it felt significant, and it made me feel small but in tune with nature somehow. Driving in my car, even...listening to Matisyahu, feeling the insignificance of myself but appreciating it for the first time. I don't need to try to convince myself that I'm important, or that I'm consequential in anyone else's life. Ultimately we're all pretty small, compared with forces that we feel we've mastered like the ocean.
But it's going to outlast us all...it's going to continue its rhythm, back and forth, up and down, in and out, forever. Long after the last human being has disappeared off the face of this planet in some ridiculous ice storm or fire storm or tectonic disaster, the ocean will still be there, uneffected, unimpressed.
It's amazing the thoughts that a single scent in the air can evoke.
But tonight, I'm wondering what is happening out there. I was driving back from Starbucks after meeting with Lauren, introspective (like I always am) after a significant dose of caffiene, and the raw, harsh feel and smell of the rain and salt hit me. It was like the ocean was its own being, rising up from its normal boundaries and filling the air with its raw, salty power. It felt real...it felt significant, and it made me feel small but in tune with nature somehow. Driving in my car, even...listening to Matisyahu, feeling the insignificance of myself but appreciating it for the first time. I don't need to try to convince myself that I'm important, or that I'm consequential in anyone else's life. Ultimately we're all pretty small, compared with forces that we feel we've mastered like the ocean.
But it's going to outlast us all...it's going to continue its rhythm, back and forth, up and down, in and out, forever. Long after the last human being has disappeared off the face of this planet in some ridiculous ice storm or fire storm or tectonic disaster, the ocean will still be there, uneffected, unimpressed.
It's amazing the thoughts that a single scent in the air can evoke.