OK, now I feel like writing...
How can you tell the difference between just living life and really experiencing it?
Sometimes, here in Braga, I feel like I'm just living. People ask me how things are going and I feel bad that I have nothing interesting to say. "Im just living you know. It's NORMAL." I go to class, I go to the gym, I do laundry, buy groceries, make dinner, study, and go out occasionally for a beer with my roomates.
p.s. yes people, I said cooking (and havent killed anyone yet!)
...but other days, the experience seems extraordinary, irreplaceable. But I cant really explain why or how, its just a feeling, you know? Sometimes, moments just slap me across the face and I think, "this is freakin' dope."
Like when I walk by the university campus at night, wrapped in layers of winter clothes (and still cold). Even though my nostrils are frozen, I just love that feeling of the breeze dancing over my face. It's like when I feel so insignificant, the wind recognizes who I am. I am present. It makes me feel like if I inhale, I can remember that feeling a little better. I dont think thats just here though. State gave me the same feeling. there seems to be a romantic, socially inviting ambiance that's radiated right to me, perhaps by the yellow streetlamps. Its reflection on the cobblestone floor make mosaic-like steps look like a deliberate piece of art.
Perhaps this inspiration of romanticism was caused by the satisfaction I have with myself for doing things out of the ordinary; the moments I allow myself to do something that isnt so NORMAL for me. Like meeting new people, making spontaneous, last-minute decision plans to hop on a train and party in another city for the night, or just to CALMLY enjoy free time. Operative word here is calmly, which for me is out of the ordinary because I seem to have this insecure and uncomfortable habit of always being busy. I pretend to be productive as often as I can so as to avoid the potential awkward silence, lazy appearance, knots in my stomach moments that happen when I have nothing to do. Ugh, I hate that habit, and I hate the feeling even more...to be uncomfortable in your own skin...and how strange that sometimes, that feeling is too familiar to me while others, its seems so far away...like right now.
Ultimately, it is the goal to live every day, every moment, with this sense of realization. This feeling is what is experiencing life, and it is the constant struggle to consciously LIVE, to live feeling this way, always.
Sometimes, it feels so hard to really grasp onto this awareness. Its like I already miss that feeling while Im experiencing it...and Im so afraid to miss it, Afraid that when I go when this is all done, only to remember the NORMAL day-to-day and not this new wave of inspiration to live life the way it should be lived..
So in the meantime, I’ll open my eyes a little wider and breathe in a little deeper in hopes of creating that memory to look back on…perhaps so that I wont miss it so much the way I do now.
Sometimes, here in Braga, I feel like I'm just living. People ask me how things are going and I feel bad that I have nothing interesting to say. "Im just living you know. It's NORMAL." I go to class, I go to the gym, I do laundry, buy groceries, make dinner, study, and go out occasionally for a beer with my roomates.
p.s. yes people, I said cooking (and havent killed anyone yet!)
...but other days, the experience seems extraordinary, irreplaceable. But I cant really explain why or how, its just a feeling, you know? Sometimes, moments just slap me across the face and I think, "this is freakin' dope."
Like when I walk by the university campus at night, wrapped in layers of winter clothes (and still cold). Even though my nostrils are frozen, I just love that feeling of the breeze dancing over my face. It's like when I feel so insignificant, the wind recognizes who I am. I am present. It makes me feel like if I inhale, I can remember that feeling a little better. I dont think thats just here though. State gave me the same feeling. there seems to be a romantic, socially inviting ambiance that's radiated right to me, perhaps by the yellow streetlamps. Its reflection on the cobblestone floor make mosaic-like steps look like a deliberate piece of art.
Perhaps this inspiration of romanticism was caused by the satisfaction I have with myself for doing things out of the ordinary; the moments I allow myself to do something that isnt so NORMAL for me. Like meeting new people, making spontaneous, last-minute decision plans to hop on a train and party in another city for the night, or just to CALMLY enjoy free time. Operative word here is calmly, which for me is out of the ordinary because I seem to have this insecure and uncomfortable habit of always being busy. I pretend to be productive as often as I can so as to avoid the potential awkward silence, lazy appearance, knots in my stomach moments that happen when I have nothing to do. Ugh, I hate that habit, and I hate the feeling even more...to be uncomfortable in your own skin...and how strange that sometimes, that feeling is too familiar to me while others, its seems so far away...like right now.
Ultimately, it is the goal to live every day, every moment, with this sense of realization. This feeling is what is experiencing life, and it is the constant struggle to consciously LIVE, to live feeling this way, always.
Sometimes, it feels so hard to really grasp onto this awareness. Its like I already miss that feeling while Im experiencing it...and Im so afraid to miss it, Afraid that when I go when this is all done, only to remember the NORMAL day-to-day and not this new wave of inspiration to live life the way it should be lived..
So in the meantime, I’ll open my eyes a little wider and breathe in a little deeper in hopes of creating that memory to look back on…perhaps so that I wont miss it so much the way I do now.