DANCING FOE

Nearly half the year has already gone by. This realization just smacked me in the face. Over half the decade is already gone. In less than six months I have found what my life’s purpose is. I have developed a sense of self and confidence that is evident in the way I talk, I act, and I live my life.

I’ve begun living my life not only for myself but for other people. I try to “do something that benefits someone other than you” just about every day. Friday I taught an older woman to work the treadmills at Easter Seals. Last week I cleaned the house and babysat free of charge for a working mother. I did the dishes for my mom without being nagged, so she could get an extra hour of sleep. Life is more enjoyable when I’m not thinking about me; my strengths, my needs, my desires, and I turn the focus on someone else’s strengths, needs, and desires.

I don’t say these things to make myself feel massive compared to others. I truly feel blessed and extremely privelaged to have found how my life is supposed to be lived.

My life is rich with blessings, and full with love. This was one day that I was clear minded enough to see this fact. Maybe it was the clear spring day in the most beautiful city in all of the world, or maybe it was the day spent with those that I love, or the photographs taken, or the movies watched, or the hugs received, or the hyena-like laughs that were laughed in the theater, or maybe it was the absence of pain. I don’t know what sparked such a wonderful day, but I am happy to have had it.

I spent hours taking pictures with my dad, in a small strip of Nashville known as “Hillsboro Village”. As we headed home after getting slightly sunburnt, I suggested we stop at a local staple called Las Paletas which, for those of your who remember your Spanish I vocabulary, means The Popsicles. We ate the most perfect pure-tasting homemade popsicles that have ever graced the face of the earth. My dad and I sat on a bench and watched a group of six year olds enjoy their dripping popsicles and playing in the gravel with each other.

Later my mom joined us and we drove across town to Franklin, a mecca of great shopping and entertainment just 20 miles away from our home. We stopped at the nicest movie theater I’ve ever been to, and watched Scary Movie 4, with my dad’s best friend. We walked out of the theater with tear stained cheeks from laughing so uncontrollably.

My dad and I let my mom out at home, then drove to the nearest bookstore, Davis Kidd Booksellers. We walked around the store and thumbed through books that sparked our interest. After gathering the books I wanted (Sewing For Dummies and Catch-22) I met up with my father back upstairs, in the photography section. We browsed through the books, and found one that sounded like a fun idea to try; every week going on a photography excursion, to complete the excersizes in the book.

As we walked back to the car, I made myself memorize the feel of this night. The aromas coming from the Italian restaurant as we passed, the weight of the bag of books in my hand, the softest summery breeze wafting through my hair, the sound of my feet across the cobblestone path, the roughness of the bag’s paper straps against my skin, the perfect bright greenery of the trees being lit from parking lot lights–everything was just as it was supposed to be at that moment in time. As soon as we got in the car, I finished my memorization and returned myself to earth.