
Today was the first day of the lunar year, and what a day of dualism it was. I’m not exactly sure why I felt what I felt but a significant sense of calm came over me in the afternoon, even if just for a short while, it felt great. It was a much-needed mental break amid such a frantic week. The afternoon atmosphere bought me to a nostalgic center where I became observant to all the visual pleasures that I’ve been skipping on lately. I could finally see people on the street as the Fenway willows swayed against a cobalt sky with clouds that seem rendered of paint. I saw a man with a dog, a student sitting curiously on a building ledge, an artist striving to sell his graffiti panels on Newbury street while store fronts filled with mannequins resembled cardboard cookie stamps.
The weather felt just right. I could feel every inch of the sun rays elevating me into thin air, into ambiance. It felt good to be alive. The gods must have bestowed this first day as a positive affirmation for anyone who was willing to smile and enjoy the simple pleasures that exist all around us.
I passed by as a nomadic voyager and into Starbucks, contained within my identity. I felt liberated from worry, shame, parameters, perfection, failure and catastrophizing thoughts, if only for the moment. For I always forget that there is no such thing as reaching the end, I can only stay hopeful to better, forward, and play, forward some more, and relax, then grip and relax. Existence is nothing but vibrations after all…
I’m tired of the perfectionist mentality, its time I realize its fallacy and its subspecies of false dilemma. My thoughts have become a job, a job contained within a cycle rooted deep in shame. But what must I be ashamed of? of being alone, rejected, and desperate? Why am I motivated to hide shame? I know that shame rests on secrets, but why would it be worth concealing when shame itself has no core existence. Lets pretend less from now on; less desperate thoughts. Rather, lets stay hopeful, resilient, and determined to BETTER.
Leave a reply to Eriko Tsogo Cancel reply