Breathing/Blinking

I started this at first with a sweeping statement about "faith in humanity," but realized that "humanity" is a really big thing, and that for the most part, I do indeed have faith in "it." So rather than saying that on some days I have little faith in humanity, I will be more accurate and say that on some days, I am surprised by the human ability to experience extreme sadness and still walk upright. When walking upright doesn't go so well, it's the little things (like breathing and/or blinking) that count. Over the past few weeks, I have been brought to my knees by several individuals and their abilities to keep on breathing and blinking when faced with extreme adversity. Going into details would be disrespectful, or at least voyeuristic...so I'll stay mysterious and vague.

I have also been brought to my knees because:
- the walking upright thing was a little much and breathing/blinking seemed more feasible from a lower altitude;
- physical acknowledgement of spiritual gratitude seemed...you know...appropriate;
- I was laughing really, really hard;
- loose change for laundry tends to hang out under my bed.

The lesson I'm taking from this is that joy/sorrow/fear/hope all take it in turns to mess with you, and just when you're beginning to feel profound and emotive (ie. angsty), the absence of clean underwear reminds you that life goes on.

I'll leave you with a quote:

"...A person who is headstrong enough to open their eyes and their heart to the full depth and weight of the world is inviting in everything out there - both evil and good, both dark and light, and the sheer bravery of that openness enables them to gain profound insight into the human condition. It also f*cks them up. It may even make them more prone to stick their head in an oven than to engage in self-promotional chitchat on Jay Leno."
~ Patricia Pearson