Sometimes, it’s enough to stand up on your own two feet. And sometimes, it’s enough to take a walk and get away for a while, just to see the world from a different point of view.
I think it’s important to change our perspective and update our thinking so we can grow.
I can think of the times when I was walking around in New York City, trying hard to pull off my best performance or to act like I was cool, or to act like nothing was wrong, or to act like my pocket was filled with money. Meanwhile, I was down to my last twenty.
God, the male ego is so fragile, at least mine was.
I remember taking a break from the crowd, or somehow, I escaped for the moment and got away for a while. I used to love doing this.
I loved walking around the scene and witnessing the City on my own.
I have told you about this. Or maybe I haven’t.
I remember walking from Downtown, all the way up to Pennsylvania Station. I was still in my clothes from the night before. I suppose it was sometime after midday on a Sunday, and I noticed how people gathered and set up their seats at the bottom of the steps in front of their brownstone apartments.
There was something about this, something wholesome, and something beautiful, and something family-like too; but more, I saw this as a clear picture of friends and family getting together and setting up for a day outside to enjoy the summertime in New York City.
I appreciated the smiles and the look on their faces, as if Sunday was a great day. To me, Sunday has always been yellow, or somehow, half sullen, and half free from the bondage of workday life.
God bless the humble.
I can say that I have lived on both sides of the coin, which means that there are times I spent in places that were high-priced and expensive. And equally, I have spent time in humble regards and spent time in modest places, and between the two, I can say that the modest scenarios hold a tighter grip on my heart.
I used to have a strange definition of success. And perhaps my definition is still updating or evolving but so be it.
I knew people who would tell me that wealth from the heart is something that poor people think about. At the same time, I can say that I have stood in the presence of financial greatness and in all, I have met more miserable millionaires than I care to admit.
I have reached a point in my life, or a threshold, which is more of an understanding and more of an internal awareness than anything else.
I want to be happy . . .
Now, that’s rich.
Sure, beautiful things can happen in our balcony lullabies, and yes, wild times can be had anywhere in the arena.
However, and as humbly as I can report this to you, I don’t need much. I don’t need a mansion, nor do I need you in a tiara, nor do I care if we sit in coach, first, or in business class.
I care about the dream. I care about the experience. I care about the fact that time is ticking and yes, the statement is true. Enjoy yourself. It’s later than you think.
Time has no bias nor does time care if we live or pay attention to the world around us.
No, this is for us to do.
Therefore, life is meant to be lived. And so, whether we are welcomed amongst the elite or not, I don’t care. Whether we see the show from the front or the back, I don’t care. It’ll be nice, either way.
I don’t care if we sit in the cheap seats, or if we dine on the meat from the bone or feed each other little hamburgers from White Castle.
I don’t need to be anywhere else right now.
I don’t need to be anyone else.
I only need to be me.
With you. On the beach, perhaps . . . walking when the sun comes up and thinking about how simple it is to see the world without anyone else around.
I suppose it is nice to say that, yes, we’ve done some things.
We can say that we have sat up front at great venues, and we have sat in the back. But none of that matters to me anymore.
All that matters is the company we keep, the joy we share, and the simple things that leave an imprint on the soul and memories in our heart. That’s all.
Life changes us.
So does death.
But for the moment, I want to live more now than ever before.
Consecutively –
The Written Addiction 