This I Believe

I believe that happiness can be found in a new box of crayons. There’s something about that smell, that familiar fresh, crisp wax smell that can be found in the halls of elementary schools, usually mixed with urine and Lysol. Those pristine, untouched boxes represent endless possibilities, new directions, new beginnings. No tips have been broken, no paper labels ripped, no missing colors. Memories, sensations, smells, and tastes from my youth- take me away, if even for a moment, from the humdrum. These memories don’t cost anything, they are God’s gifts. They are tiny bits of joy in a frantic, bitter, and materialistic world.

I was a very “spirited” child- hyper by some standards, but just excited about life. I showed this enthusiasm through shrieks, impromptu dances, and kazoo like noises made from blades of monkey grass. I wanted to touch everything, , taste everything; including crayons. I remember the feel of thick, red Alabama clay, it’s slimy, but coarse texture and how it stained everything it touched. I would rub it all over my arms and watch it dry in the sun and change colors. It reminded me of my burnt sienna crayon from my box of crayolas. I can still see its pale red color under my nails -that were stained all summer. I remember lying in bed at the lake, listening to the cicadas and the soft sounds of the water; a sound that no Sharper Image device can mimic. I melted ice cubes on my chest while humid breezes, that brought no relief from the steamy ,southern ,summer nights, streamed in through the screens.


I’ll try to come back to these moments to remind myself of what can truly bring happiness. I’ll try to remind myself when I’m at the job, working the long hours, earning the miniscule paycheck, to go out and buy the thing that will “make my life complete” or at least improve it. I believe the greatest things in life are smelled, touched, or tasted. I long for those days when I could open up a new box of crayons and appreciate their simple beauty and endless possibility- with nothing left to be desired.

What I know...

This was written by a good friend of mine. He was nice enough to share it. Forgive the punctuation!

I remember the day as if it were yesterday, that day in late November as I sat by my daddy's hospital bed waiting for the fast approaching end of his life. His 84 years had been lived to the fullest. I had always thought he'd out live me. he was always so strong, so enduring. a strange chance of fate delivered him a lethal blow, a simple change of a prescription, that caused a deadly reaction that shut down his lungs. what the enemy in world war 11 couldn't do, what the hepatitis couldn't do, what the ditch cave in couldn't do, what the high voltage wire couldn't do,what even old age couldn't do, a simple change of medicine did in only a few weeks. he went from climbing up in a tree stand at 4am to hunt deer to the intensive care unit in less than 3 weeks. as i stood by his bed holding his large hands i recalled that it was those same hands that i had hung onto when learning to walk, that lifted me so i could climb that tree in the back yard, that pulled the sling shot back for me to shoot at the bottle. It was those same hands that held me up when trying to swim, that threw me into the air so i could make a big slash in the lake. it was even those same hands that swatted my bottom when i had blatantly disobeyed him but only on a few occasions. it was from this man that i learned most about life. i learned if you want friends you have to be a friend, not to just a few but to anyone who needs one, regardless of status or position. i went to church and heard about the golden rule, but it was at home with my dad that i learned what it was to live it. i learned pretense is just so much bull, that sweet tea is to be savored as the delicacy that it is, and that you eat what you kill or give it away, never ,ever waste that which nature provides. i learned that searching for arrow heads and pottery scraps was a way to learn about those whose land we had taken and whose way of life we had destroyed for our own selfish greed. i learned that hard work is necessary if any thing is worthwhile. i learned that holding grudges is just so much wasted energy.forgive, and move on.let them worry about it. i learned what unconditional love was. You don't have to agree, understand and be anywhere on the same page, just accept for who you are, not what you do. i learned that God was so much bigger than even the church folks thought, especially when they were fussing about something silly. God didn't care about such, but did care about how we treated one another. That was the important thing. as i watched the life slip out of his bodyI knew that an era had past., so much of what was right with me was because of him. Ididn't adopt his sometimes salty language, but sometimes wished I had, for it says it better than my college educated words ever do. he was one of those who always knew what his duty was and always did it.bigger than life sometimes, fun, funny, bold, shocking, but always so loving and caring and giving. so much of what i believe about life ,people,honor,duty, compassion and love, i learned from him.especially that life is a glorious adventure, that has to be lived, every day because you never know when a simple change in something as small as a prescription can change everything

Vices

An answer responding to the question of what vices I had planned to cultivate over spring break:

I have an older sister named, Day. Yes, that’s D-A-Y. Clearly, drugs fit in somewhere in my parents’ history…and my brother’s, and my sister’s. My parents have always encouraged me to expand my mind, whether its tagging along on a family trip to a meditation camp in the Virginia mountains or sitting quietly while Daddy hypnotizes me, so I can discover my identity in a past life. My brother found easier ways, through experimentations that left he and his friends sluggish, cranky, and hungry for my precious French bread pizzas. Drugs are a common vice, but too easy, and frankly, unoriginal.
My father’s family so generously threw alcoholism into the gene pool. I have yet to thank them for their gift. Yet, it is unlikely that you will find me deep inside a bottle over the break. I wouldn’t wish that upon even the most hated enemy. I fear that my antics would be inexcusable and unforgivable.
Instead, this break I shall focus on vice in its purest form, the Capital Vices, the Seven Deadly Sins: lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, and pride. Skipping lust, because a lady doesn’t speak of such things, I will engage in most satisfying gluttony. I will over- indulge in every sweet, east of the Mississippi. I will then engage in pride and hit the gym to make my body pay for these indulgences. No doubt wrath will come when my mother voices her disapproval for my shopping habits which I suppose, expose my greed. Sloth will come easily by sleeping the day away and my trip with end with envy of those who don’t have to return to Texas.
To avoid going strait to hell, in the following weeks I will repent by practicing temperance, charity, diligence, forgiveness, kindness, and humility.