The human machine...
There was a time when all I wanted was to find a place. A niche. A thread within the weave of humanity where I could exist as a part of the greater whole, undisturbed and uninhibited.
Last night I trained for almost 4 solid hours. I ran 4 miles with a weighted pack (I estimate it to be about 30 lbs.) I trained with the staff for almost an hour, and I finished the night with a capoeira class. In the midst of those activities, I found my mind in motion, at times, sorting through thoughts that haven't been touched in a few weeks.
At one point, while I was spinning the staff, the song "Burn" by The Cure began to play in my earphones. This song had been my anthem in high school for a time, a musical tribute for the tragedy of my life. There I stood with mud in the tread of my boots, moving a heavy stick like it was made of air, listening to the emo anthem of my previous sorrow.
I began to smile, thinking how, in those days I never imagined myself being able to do such a thing. Hell, I didn't even know that type of thing existed back then. In my mind I would always be fat, awkward, and alone.
I had this feeling a few days back, sitting down to a meal with Sabia'. I realized that having normal interactions, conversations, and friendships was something I never expected out of life. I never even imagined myself living to the age of 29, let alone having these experiences.
In that context, every breath, every day, every moment is a gift. Each second of awareness passes like an individual present beneath the Christmas tree, to be unwrapped, explored, and exhausted with joy.
In capoeira class, I managed three little steps on my hands. The best I have ever done, and without the burn of my arm muscles, in a single breath of perfect balance. Things are moving upward . Forward. Higher.
At the end of the night, when I reached the apartment, I was soaked through 4 layers of clothing with sweat. I felt drunk, experiencing a sensation my old teacher has often warned me about: overhydration and water intoxication. I sat in my living room, unable to stand, sipping Gatorade spiked with salt, and marveling at the human machine.
In my darkest hours it dragged itself forward, hand over hand through the mud of my life.
And in my brightest moment it has only been limited by the strength of my mind and the power of my own hope and belief.
We are what we think, we mold ourselves with ideas. We are a machine of flesh, running on the energy of thought and constructed and formed by the engineering of belief.
There was a time when all I wanted was to find a place. A niche. A thread within the weave of humanity where I could exist as a part of the greater whole, undisturbed and uninhibited.
Last night I trained for almost 4 solid hours. I ran 4 miles with a weighted pack (I estimate it to be about 30 lbs.) I trained with the staff for almost an hour, and I finished the night with a capoeira class. In the midst of those activities, I found my mind in motion, at times, sorting through thoughts that haven't been touched in a few weeks.
At one point, while I was spinning the staff, the song "Burn" by The Cure began to play in my earphones. This song had been my anthem in high school for a time, a musical tribute for the tragedy of my life. There I stood with mud in the tread of my boots, moving a heavy stick like it was made of air, listening to the emo anthem of my previous sorrow.
I began to smile, thinking how, in those days I never imagined myself being able to do such a thing. Hell, I didn't even know that type of thing existed back then. In my mind I would always be fat, awkward, and alone.
I had this feeling a few days back, sitting down to a meal with Sabia'. I realized that having normal interactions, conversations, and friendships was something I never expected out of life. I never even imagined myself living to the age of 29, let alone having these experiences.
In that context, every breath, every day, every moment is a gift. Each second of awareness passes like an individual present beneath the Christmas tree, to be unwrapped, explored, and exhausted with joy.
In capoeira class, I managed three little steps on my hands. The best I have ever done, and without the burn of my arm muscles, in a single breath of perfect balance. Things are moving upward . Forward. Higher.
At the end of the night, when I reached the apartment, I was soaked through 4 layers of clothing with sweat. I felt drunk, experiencing a sensation my old teacher has often warned me about: overhydration and water intoxication. I sat in my living room, unable to stand, sipping Gatorade spiked with salt, and marveling at the human machine.
In my darkest hours it dragged itself forward, hand over hand through the mud of my life.
And in my brightest moment it has only been limited by the strength of my mind and the power of my own hope and belief.
We are what we think, we mold ourselves with ideas. We are a machine of flesh, running on the energy of thought and constructed and formed by the engineering of belief.
I have only one complaint.
You referred to the Cure as emo!!!!!
(Sorry the whole emo scene gets under my skin and my love for the Cure is great)
thanks for the request!