Seeing the awesome in life is really about the lens. The perspective.
It sounds easy, right?
"Life is awesome."
Can I even remember how many times I have repeated those words, full of humor? Or sarcasm?
Could I even begin to count the times I've seen T-shirts or internet memes parading the idea?
Then I come across a prompt. It speaks to me and I hear, "Why do you say that life is awesome?"
Why? When there are starving children, violent rapes, and meaningless deaths?
When our leaders inhale money to exhale corruption? When we are all born to die?
I desperately turn to the internet. "What is awesome?" I am ungraciously hurdled a definition.
Awesome. Adjective. As per the online dictionary: inspiring great admiration, apprehension, or fear.
Could these tragic events be called awesome? I suppose. But it feels wrong to me. Connotations have always been more powerful than denotations.
In my mind's eye I can see the endless times I was cast aside or ridiculed by those whom I most craved acceptance from
Branded as unloved. Unlovable.
And is there anyone who hasn't endured the icy fingers of a creeping depression?
I can see the glowing headlines of the news, too
There's been another senseless murder. But at this point, we've all lost count.
What else is there?
I delve deeper alongside the ticking clock and the unwavering glow of a fluorescent lamp
I realize, perhaps for the first time, the awe hiding in the corner of my conscience
Humans do terrible things, yes. And life leaves broken souls in its wake, undeniably.
But those events parallel breathtaking beauty and kindness
They highlight the rare glimpses of unapologetically pure intentions
And unwaveringly strong resolves
They are blinding. Inspiring. Invaluable.
From my memories, I can see snippets of the gentleness of humanity, however rare
I can see loved ones hoist and drag me away from that relentless sadness
I zoom in on the words "anonymous donor", "children's cancer funds", and "$500,000" that rest in a line
And feel a warmth that pervades even my fingertips
In the corner of my eye, a small title reads "Heroic Young Boy Chases Girl's Abductors on Bike"
I feel as though I have been slapped, as my eyes are opened to the realization
What makes life so awesome, so admirable, is its potential
And our potential.
Because guess what's awesome?
What's awesome is the potential to be alive in the next minute, and the next. To do something great tomorrow.
To do something fun today. To laugh now.
To make somebody else laugh.
What's awesome is watching white platelets rush through a human body for even the smallest cut
Watching how we heal. Knowing that we can.
What's awesome is the possibility that someone will read this.
What's awesome is that I can convey my thoughts through a 26 letter medium created by humanity
That I have eyes that will show me the words that I produce in a comfortable black color
Eyes that will show me outstretched hands, even if they are not seen at first
And I am inspired.
"What is awesome?"
It's not a question that can be confined within one poem. Or even a thousand.
It's not a question that I can answer.
But as I see it
It is the disasters that happen everyday
Followed by the miracles
It's the little things, the unexpected greeting that leaves me with a feeling of elation
And the days that fill the spaces in-between.
They are intermingled, inescapably bound
And walking the path of life
Looking through my newly-dusted lens
I am awestruck.
This poem is about: