In honor of Week of Compassion, I made a video for you! Enjoy!
P.S. Sorry for the shaky-cam work. Turns out it's really hard to film anything on an iPhone...
February 18, 2014
A day in the life
P.S. Sorry for the shaky-cam work. Turns out it's really hard to film anything on an iPhone...
February 2, 2014
That is happiness
I've been back in Budapest for three weeks now and I'm finding it incredibly easy to slip back into my life/routine here in the city. Normal life for me has returned.
But, the flip side is that now I see the end. This adventure that started out with endless opportunity and a seemingly endless lifespan has slowly yet ceaselessly progressed until this very moment, when I look up to see myself on a plane and the pulsing lifeblood of Budapest painfully slipping into my past. And this realization, that really I've known all along, is a hard pill to swallow - a hard reality to accept. However, I can't continue my days with a cloud of dread hanging over my head. I can't take this precious time in this wonderful place for granted. Instead, I'm challenging myself to live in the moment; let every experience seep into me until they become a part of me.
Tonight as I write this blog post, I have just returned from a birthday party where, in spite of feeling sick and exhausted, I fell in love with a moment in time and with the people who filled it with laughter and joy. I was a part of something and now it is a part of me.
And I am happy.
"I kept as still as I could. Nothing happened. I did not expect anything to happen. I was something that lay under the sun and felt it, like the pumpkins, and I did not want to be anything more. I was entirely happy. Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become a part of something entire, whether it is sun and air, or goodness and knowledge. At any rate that is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great. When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep."
But, the flip side is that now I see the end. This adventure that started out with endless opportunity and a seemingly endless lifespan has slowly yet ceaselessly progressed until this very moment, when I look up to see myself on a plane and the pulsing lifeblood of Budapest painfully slipping into my past. And this realization, that really I've known all along, is a hard pill to swallow - a hard reality to accept. However, I can't continue my days with a cloud of dread hanging over my head. I can't take this precious time in this wonderful place for granted. Instead, I'm challenging myself to live in the moment; let every experience seep into me until they become a part of me.
Tonight as I write this blog post, I have just returned from a birthday party where, in spite of feeling sick and exhausted, I fell in love with a moment in time and with the people who filled it with laughter and joy. I was a part of something and now it is a part of me.
And I am happy.
"I kept as still as I could. Nothing happened. I did not expect anything to happen. I was something that lay under the sun and felt it, like the pumpkins, and I did not want to be anything more. I was entirely happy. Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become a part of something entire, whether it is sun and air, or goodness and knowledge. At any rate that is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great. When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep."
Willa Cather, My Ántonia
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