That young Lady in the middle is my Aunt Deb. She came out to visit last week from Plainville ,C.T. for her birthday. She has the well-meaning spirit of a Labrador Retriever, but the chaotic nature of a hurricane.
Never have I known someone to have so much energy, so much zest, so much love for life, and so much unintentional disregard for common, accepted behavior. Then again I guess it's because she is no common Lady.
Everyone has a personal bubble. Protecting that personal bubble, that inner sanctum, are layers of accepted social protocol that keep people at bay. Things that make you stop and re-think your choice when about to do something spontaneous. Should I go talk to that girl? No, because of; this, this, and this. Should I raise my hand and ask a off-the-wall question? No, because of; this, this, and that. My aunt either doesn't have, or flat out refuses to listen to, that aspect of herself. She carves right through those protective layers and lands smack in the middle of your bubble: Whether you asked for it or not.
We took her all over L.A. to see the sites. She drank it all up like she'd never seen a hot dog stand that's past it's prime, or a body builder beach filled with saggy, old men. Everything was wonderful and new to her, EVERYTHING. Clouds, dogs, sweatshirts, skateboarders, artichokes, butter, benches, trees, weather. It was all accompanied by "Look at that!" or "Doug, isn't that splendid" in an unending verbal waterfall of positivity.
I'll admit, at first I was annoyed by it, then I had to pump the breaks, take a sharp look at myself, find out why I was annoyed, and where it was coming from.
Turns out I'm jealous of her care-free spirit.
I re-think things over and over till I'm worried sick. Situations spiral out of control in made up instances inside my mind, until I'm convinced they have to happen that way. My thought process is rigid and unchanging. While her's is fluid to the point of never really having a set time to leave for anything.
Having her visit showed me that the things we spend so much time fretting over, in the long run, are little blips on our life journey. Little bumps that when we're old and grey, we won't smile and think fondly of while smoking a pipe on the back-porch. We won't even remember them. My Aunt Deb is the pinnacle of living in the moment. Something this generation can't do for the life of them. We can't just live in the here and now, we judge and gauge. What we could potentially miss out on if we do this, or what this might get us down the line if we do that? It's a maddening way to live. That's why I got rid of my Facebook.
Take a step back, zoom out a little on your life timeline. Look at where you are, where you've come from, and where you want to be. What are you worrying about and letting tear you apart right now. Is it worth it? Sometimes yes, most of the time no.
Live a little more in the small moment, life is just a large collection of them.
Everyone has a personal bubble. Protecting that personal bubble, that inner sanctum, are layers of accepted social protocol that keep people at bay. Things that make you stop and re-think your choice when about to do something spontaneous. Should I go talk to that girl? No, because of; this, this, and this. Should I raise my hand and ask a off-the-wall question? No, because of; this, this, and that. My aunt either doesn't have, or flat out refuses to listen to, that aspect of herself. She carves right through those protective layers and lands smack in the middle of your bubble: Whether you asked for it or not.
We took her all over L.A. to see the sites. She drank it all up like she'd never seen a hot dog stand that's past it's prime, or a body builder beach filled with saggy, old men. Everything was wonderful and new to her, EVERYTHING. Clouds, dogs, sweatshirts, skateboarders, artichokes, butter, benches, trees, weather. It was all accompanied by "Look at that!" or "Doug, isn't that splendid" in an unending verbal waterfall of positivity.
I'll admit, at first I was annoyed by it, then I had to pump the breaks, take a sharp look at myself, find out why I was annoyed, and where it was coming from.
Turns out I'm jealous of her care-free spirit.
I re-think things over and over till I'm worried sick. Situations spiral out of control in made up instances inside my mind, until I'm convinced they have to happen that way. My thought process is rigid and unchanging. While her's is fluid to the point of never really having a set time to leave for anything.
Having her visit showed me that the things we spend so much time fretting over, in the long run, are little blips on our life journey. Little bumps that when we're old and grey, we won't smile and think fondly of while smoking a pipe on the back-porch. We won't even remember them. My Aunt Deb is the pinnacle of living in the moment. Something this generation can't do for the life of them. We can't just live in the here and now, we judge and gauge. What we could potentially miss out on if we do this, or what this might get us down the line if we do that? It's a maddening way to live. That's why I got rid of my Facebook.
Take a step back, zoom out a little on your life timeline. Look at where you are, where you've come from, and where you want to be. What are you worrying about and letting tear you apart right now. Is it worth it? Sometimes yes, most of the time no.
Live a little more in the small moment, life is just a large collection of them.
This my aunt after she got her Birthday present. She got up on the bench and started dancing, then proceeded to dance around the lawn of the nice restaurant we were at. We all need to be more like Aunt Deb.
Love you Aunt Deb,
Doug
Love you Aunt Deb,
Doug
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