Bottled Water (written for a former English class)

Bottled water sits motionless within the confinement of its cylindrical or often rectangular plastic bottle. It forcibly resembles a colorless solid, sitting comfortably on desks, in refrigerators, and on multi-colored counter tops. What covers most of our earth and runs through us in its untamed fluidity is captured in this manmade creation. We carry around this most vital piece of nature, as if we have some measureable amount of control over its distribution; eight, 16, 32 ounces. We treat it as if it weren't dripping freely off the rooftops on a warm January day, overflowing the rivers' banks in the first weeks of spring, or pouring over us in the lustful days of June. It is as free as the animalistic love we chose to domesticate; confined within the most popular labels in society: girlfriend, fiancé, wife. When committed, love is trapped within the same confined scope until, although able to move, sits perfectly still. It is two, once free spirited lovers, dancing around a familiarly drawn out comfort zone. Or parents, stuck inside a routine that has rendered them companions, stripped of passion and desire. We love, unconditionally, regardless of our situation. We love those who have betrayed us, we love multiples at a time, and we can even love those we haven’t met yet. We render that passion as such a rarity that we are driven to stamp our label on it, and claim it ours. Rather than let love run free, in its naturally rapturous manner, we selfishly carry it with us until it is as stale as the bottled water that litters our purses, backpacks, and car trunks. 

Morning Run

Love is:
running
through lavender washed side streets,
drowning
in stretching orange sun rays,
savoring
freshly sodden grass blades,
hearing
every breath through pulsing veins,
vibrating
with every subtle heart beat,
feeling
the filling warmth of silence.

The Heart of A Child (written for my brother)

           
"His talent was as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly's wings. At one time he understood it no more than the butterfly did and he did not know when it was brushed or marred. Later he became conscious of his damaged wings and of their construction and he learned to think and could not fly anymore because the love of flight was gone and he could only remember when it had been effortless" (Ernest Hemingway). For some reason unknown to me, society associates maturity and growth with the realization that we live in a tainted world in which all our endeavors are futile and trapped within our own mortality. As children we are told that we can do anything, be anything we want. Yet as adults we are continuously reprimanded for dreaming beyond the confinements of society's man made limits. Self awareness is taught to recognize the world as it is, rather than how it could be, logic is used to banish the need for emotions, rather than to acknowledge and appropriately express them. We believe that wisdom comes with age, but isn't the most profound wisdom in the heart of a child? Only a child can see the endless opportunities the world offers him, can truly believe in self actualization, can think logically without losing his ability to love. We were created in this blissful simplicity, talented, and perfect all in our own, undeniable way. Only once we started trying did we lose what was so natural and effortless to us: to dream.

Dream big and never grow up.
-your sister

The Passionate Life (written for my brother)

The Passionate Life

"There is no passion to be found playing small- in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living" Nelson Mandela. We live on a little blue planet that floats in infinite space, yet daily, we dwell on the impossibilities that surround us. There is no God, we say, world peace is unattainable, they tell us, it's too hard, we tell ourselves. Only with passion can we expand. Passion, passio (Latin) "to suffer" is what it means to love to the extremity that causes pain, a constant anxiety to appease, which only through action can be alleviated. Whether it is a mother protecting her child, a professor molding young minds, or a doctor saving the life of his patient, passion is what drives our efforts. It allows us to dismiss logic to the extent to which we abolish all impossibilities, tapping into our imagination to develop ideas that often, are not only insane, but are great. We look for our passions, in our jobs and in textbooks, trying to identify what it is we love; what sparks that "fire" everyone talks about. Seldom do we reflect on the solutions we've already made, our greatest anxieties, or the solutions we've already created to alleviate them. Seldom do we reflect on what makes us suffer to discover what we truly love, instead we linger in our logic and our comfort, settling for a life of complacency.

You will find your passion, and you will be great. Never settle.
-your sister

Make A Difference (written for my brother)

"You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you" (Frederick Buechner). We are all made of moments, of negative and positive experiences that have molded our perception of life, of humanity, and our own value of self. All that is, has been since long before we were put here, and is only influenced through our interactions with each other. You carry a piece of everyone who has ever touched you. You may clean like your mother, write like that high school teacher that was deeply inspiring, comfort the way a stranger once comforted you in a time of need. We are pieces of others, yet we are greater than the sum of our parts. We have the power to give away fragments of ourselves and remain whole. So do it. Spend an extra minute to ask about someone's day, donate that dollar that you may have saved for your morning coffee, empower those without guidance. We make up the world that we live in, and a world lives inside of all of us. So who's to say that one person can't change the world? Who's to say that person isn't you?