The Beat Goes On
When, as a teenager, I would complain about something to my mom, she would bring attention to the frivolity of my moaning by asking me, “Have you lived? Have you loved? Have you suffered?”
I’ve been home for a full week after having spent 21 days in Spain and Portugal, and the whole process of travelling and coming home has once again given me food for thought. Years ago, when I worked in retail and had an impending vacation approaching, I would find myself at the top the of the flight of stairs in the store thinking about how fleeting every moment was. In what felt like the blink of an eye I would find myself in England, or Greece, or Eastern Europe, long enough to have a series of fleeting moments (all of which I would make sure to store in my mind when I consciously took the time to be present and aware). Said series of fleeting moments would last long enough so that I would get used to my surroundings, and in the blink of an eye, I would find myself back at work at the stop of the stairs reeling from how quickly the events transpired and how much of an observer I felt like in my own life.