I’m realizing that life is all about the meaningful moments.
I remember what a badass and cool little kid I was, riding around by myself on my bike, following my bliss, making friends as I went along.
I remember my first kiss with every girl I’ve been with, which isn’t many compared to some, but I loved the contrast in sensations, the scent and the touch, the electricity and chemical reaction, my energy the complement to hers.
I remember having my first taste of a soybean drink that I grew to love, a guava, a sip of cold water after my mom had me on a rice water ration when I was sick, my first cup of real coffee, a piece of pumpkin pie.
I remember the first time, how surreal and perfect it was in its imperfection, and all the other meaningful sexual experiences I’ve had since then.
I remember finding hope when things seemed hopeless.
There are so many more I could list; a neverending collage of meaningful moments, because in reality, all of it is meaningful.
The most meaningful thing for me right now is living life and seeing the world from the inside out, rather than outside in. Everything becomes meaningful that way. Everything becomes fresh and new, even things I’d taken for granted.
Meaning doesn’t come from outside of us, but rather from our interactions with life, the way we perceive things, and how conscious we are.
Life is meaningful moments.