Crying on the Sidewalk and "The Odd Couple" - March 22 2013

When I woke up this morning a thin layer of snow covered the ground. It was lovely, white snow against the tender green of March. I want winter to be over, but the snow this morning was undeniably beautiful. Today was one of those days where I just cry. I couldn’t point to anything that was particularly wrong or sad about my life, and I wasn’t exactly sad. I just cried over stuff and that’s ok.

I made a New Years resolution to live perfectly in the moment, and to experience every moment openly, to the fullest degree. Like most New Years resolutions this is incredibly difficult and sometimes impossible. The first few days of 2013 I aggressively tried to talk myself out of a series of powerful and important emotions. I also avoided honestly communicating my feelings and I had a slight panic attack. After that horrific failure there was nowhere to go but up. I have been getting steadily better at taking life as it comes and basking in whatever strange adventures (internal or external) come my way. Today was a victory. I very gently inhabited the tristesse that found me when I woke up. I cried. I called my best friend on the telephone. I watched sad and inspirational videos on my computer, and pouted over homework. I was kind of even enjoying myself… Then. Everything. Changed.

I was approached while walking out of my last class of the day (in which I had a horrid test). The man who came up to me was probably my age, early twenties. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but was well kept and friendly. He explained that his family gets free tickets to the plays at the pioneer theatre (right next to the anthropology building) and that two of his friends had failed to show up, and the show would start in 5 minutes. He offered me the tickets. I accepted.

My seat was in the very middle on the 5th row, a perfect spot. I sat down next to the generous stranger who gave me the ticket. The man who sat next to him, his father I presume, was very friendly.  He had a swell ponytail and a magnificent beard. We talked about anthropology a bit (I love doing that). The play was called “The Odd Couple”. It was funny and loud. I laughed much laughter. By the end of the play I was quite cheerful. I walked home happy.
The sadness and emotivity of the day perfectly contrasted the silliness  and spontaneity of the night. Both experiences deepened and enriched the other. It was a magnificent practice in living in the moment. There was an instant when offered the ticket that I hesitated, I was tired and grumpy, I had no idea what the play was about, but for one moment I stopped thinking and started moving. I said yes, and it made all the difference.