I live my life in half-eaten breakfasts, half-full sometimes half-empty glasses of lemon water or mango or cranapple juice. I live my life in humming tunes, in blasting speakers, in singing songs I invent the words to.
I live my life in train stations, people watching and sometimes guilty of people analyzing, wondering: what kind of lives they lead, or what stories hide beneath the flesh. What made them choose what they wore that day, or if they had any choice at all.
I live my life in bus stations, dozing off, out of boredom, out of tiredness, out of impatience. Waking up, hoping I've finally reached my destination with everything intact but mostly, heart, and soul.
I live my life in airports, running after buzzer beater boarding, chasing planes, one after the other. Wonder about people and the baggage they carry. Be taken for a momentary high in the sky, imagining a bed of clouds and of hopes yet to be realized.
I live my life in roads. Maybe not always the ones less travelled. But roads nonetheless, with all the rage, bullies, detours, and danger that come with it.
I live my life in coffee shops, in decaffeinated drinks, in bagels and strawberries and cream cheese. I live my life in smiles, constant conversations shared with family, friends, and strangers turned friends or family.
I live my life in the warmth of sunlight, in the coldness of the dark. Figuring that you can live wherever you choose, in the light or in the dark. But that, you just need to choose.
I live my life by the shore, in shallow waters, in 60ft underwater dreams. I live my life in the mountains I have yet to climb, and the actual mountains where my roots come from.
I live my life in moments that decide for itself whether I'm too late or too soon, to miss a flight or lose a loved one. You just never know the gravity of each passing minute until it takes something away from you.
I live my life in dancing, lots and lots of it, when nobody's watching, when people are watching, it doesn't matter as long as I'm dancing. In a clear day or underneath a shy moonlight, one island at a time.
I live my life in love that knows no boundaries, one that I experience every time I look into my daughter's eyes. I live my life in the deepest of desires to constantly make myself better, to be deserving of her love, to be called her mother.
I live my life weighing which weighs more, to be happy or to be whole. I live my life second guessing, trapped in the contradictions of seeking balance: calculated risks over jumping without harness, cling or detach, unending battles of fight or flight. Do I hold off or say it first or forever hold my piece?
I live my life with more courage and freedom now: to break myself open any chance I get, sometimes without much thought; to master the art of mending, of staying, of leaving; to experience ugly ironies and appreciate unexpected beauties.
I live my life in knowing death will come, in questioning: What is even the point? Why are you where you are and I am where I am and we are all put here? Would our eyes meet once or never at all?
I live my life in finding comfort that despite the doubts and infinite questions, maybe we are not alone in this, that something greater than our selves will find its way to us—may it be love, your God, or whatever it is we need to just live. And if it doesn't, I live my life in believing that you just keep living, probably with no single exact answer to “how”; that you just keep giving—gently, gracefully, and generously, to the world and to yourself.
Now tell me, how do you live?