This miraculous life and why it’s worth living


I enjoy quality time with myself. I enjoy losing track of time. I enjoy eye-rolling back dessert. I enjoy small naps on afternoons in brief moments when no one is in sight and the air conditioner sings so sweetly. I enjoy pushing my limits; be it mentally, physically or emotionally. Especially emotionally. I enjoy creating more ridges and wrinkles in my brain. I enjoy growth, any growth; be it my hair, a flower, my hamstrings or the spirit of a person. I enjoy losing breath; it’s proof that I can flirt with death but keep a safe distance. I enjoy driving. Fast. So fast that I begin to develop wings and taste flying for a brief moment. I enjoy being afraid. Poking at what scares me and become such close friends with this fear that it becomes my close companion. I believe my fears are cues of what’s still a small seed within me that desires to be ripened. I enjoy looking back and acknowledging foolishness. It means I am no longer that person… and I thank her. I enjoy forgiveness and I enjoy forgetting and I enjoy being absent-minded sometimes- I must have been deeply captivated by my imagination momentarily… what sweet oblivion. I enjoy feeling my heart beat fast; be it by the influence of a person, an adrenaline-inspiring roller-coaster or simple anticipation. I enjoy seeing dogs wag their tails during their walks by a being who believed the dog’s happiness was superior to his own for those 30 minutes. I enjoy rhythm…be it the consistent rhythm of a conversation, a musical beat so cleverly in tune with the lyrics, the rhythm of a familiar voice that can bring comfort no amount of cosmos can or the rhythm of my breath, reminding me I am still here. I enjoy witnessing being wrong- it means I’ve reached a newer level of development. I enjoy being right– it reminds me of how advanced certain pieces of me are.  I enjoy days when I’ve slept so soundly, I created an entire theatrical play with a sole dream with no interruption. I enjoy interruption and the unexpected and the rush of the unknown- it keeps me going. I enjoy laughing so hysterically that my guts begin to suffocate from the lack of air and I lose track of what was so funny to begin with that suddenly every movement, every word and every sound further intensifies my hysterical giggle until the tears of joy have wiped my make-up clean– setting spray or not. I enjoy wasting coffee and time watching my daughter in dog form further intensify her fascination with a rubber ball and understand the ball in itself served no purpose, had no career and no life until she believed it did. I enjoy believing in that way. And she never stops. I enjoy never stopping, especially when it feels most necessary – that’s usually the moment all cliché phrases are derived from; the flower blooming moment. It is the birth. Never stop. I enjoy inventing new ways to care, to speak, to jump and just about any verb I care to pull from a hat at that moment. There is no one set way to do anything and the black and white lines and red tape we’ve created are merely imaginary. I enjoy knowing I am in control of my fate. That the beliefs I hold take the wheel of where I’m heading. Like I said, I enjoy driving, so I enjoy being choosey with what I believe. I also enjoy the passenger’s seat. Trusting. Trusting another person so profoundly that I can let go. I enjoy letting go. That freedom is so kind. I enjoy being brave. My suitcase of “what-if’s” is impressively light. I enjoy being five years old and transforming to fifty if need be it. But I enjoy this moment the most. That I am this creature that’s taken the destruction of many galaxies to build and every part of what I am is beautiful. To be able to speak is beautiful. To be able to love is extraordinary and how lucky am I to have this ability and how foolish would I be if I wasted it. To be able to think is beautiful. To be able to have a body that’s mechanically built to perfection by uncountable years of mistakes is beautiful.  The way my lips can bend to speak my intentions fascinates me. The way my eyes can meet another and translate my exact being fascinates me. The way I can see the color blue fascinates me.. or any color. Sight in itself fascinates me. The way I can merely understand what I am is beautiful. To be here, in this moment and briefly be in this miracle of a physical form with layers and dimensions and consciousness is nothing short of phenomenon that we’ll spend all of humanity attempting to understand and we never will. But to be able to try. To want to know why. This fascinates me. This here. Me. You. Them. Us, all. I enjoy this the most. This is beautiful. This fascinates me.