Reverb10 (3 and 4)

December 3 – Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors).

This is a difficult question for me. Ha. One moment. If this were 2008, the answer would be easy. There was one rainy afternoon over the summer that made me look outside and gather two friends to go dancing in the rain. We changed into clothing we didn't care about and ran around bare footed: dancing, spinning, laughing, hugging. The roof poured water down in the form of a waterfall. We ran through it over and over and over. I didn't care the water was dirty. I don't think my friends did either. The feel of the water, the way my eyes could barely focus, the freedom my toes felt, and the sound of our laughter really made me feel alive. We let go of inhibitions and let ourselves just BE. I was shivering but our laughter made me forget about the cold.

I don't think I've done anything that awesome this year. There are moments when the sound of leaves crunching as I trample over them or the way sunlight glows on a fall morning will make me hyper aware of existence, but I haven't achieved that carefree feeling of aliveness. I miss it, actually. Moments that have come close include waking up at 6:25 am to go watch the sun rise with a friend on his rooftop, lighting my hair on fire when I was fire spinning, and allowing myself to get drenched by chilling rain while waiting for the metrolink train. Unfortunately, all these cases were not filled with the purity of appreciating the moment or sort of laughter that accompanies being completely alive. The 6 am sunrise was filled with my worrying about labwork. Lighting my hair on fire happened too fast and was too scary to be really savored. Lastly, dancing alone in chilling rain with a friend staring and watching me leaves a loneliness inside -- a loneliness that asks, "Why won't you join me? What are you thinking? Why can't you forget about judgmental eyes?"

I want to find someone to dance in the rain with me.


December 4 – Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year?

This question is easier.  Wonder is something I try to live by.  I like savoring moments (unless I'm really hungry and just devouring my food or in a super hurry and must meet stupid deadlines).

In terms of food I come off as being a bit (sometimes extremely) obsessive. I like eating smoked salmon and pulling apart the fibers of flesh. I like sipping tea and drinking coffee slowly and then quickly to see how the sensations changes. I also like trying things at different temperatures. My apples are usually sliced super thin because it changes my perception of their texture. I also slice my cheese (usually swiss cave aged gruyere) super thin and then eat it with the apple. I put peanut butter on my oreos and make sure it's smeared perfectly. When I try new foods, I try the components individually and then see if I can taste every permutation as well as the entity as a whole. I like experiencing how flavors change with each chew and the different orders and places flavors hit my palate. I like trying new foods and being surprised or horrified by them. :)

In other aspects, I am a child a heart. It's something I don't want to ever go away. I like colors and staring at colors. I still own a large box of crayons and enjoy coloring with them. I like picking ginko leaves off ginko trees in the fall. There's something really nice about the way the leaves look -- that unique fan shape other leaves aren't. I like taking walks and smelling the air or bouncing on leaves and listening to them crunch. I like trying to climb a tree -- I don't mind getting stuck or getting scraped. The way the sun sets and the colors that end up dancing around my eyes make me happy. I like looking at people's eyes when they're staring at the setting sun. Eyes glow really pretty and the way people's irises move can be interesting. I giggle at stupid things, funny things, little things. Sometimes I giggle and fall over while my friends just look at me confused. I try to appreciate little things. Not losing my sense of childish wonderment keeps me engaged in the world.