Ordinary Life
We haven’t lived ordinary lives, us, the others, most the world post-pandemic, present-trauma, pre-peaceable—having dodged arrows aimed and armed with our names and the labels preferred used by some who wish to make it all less personal.
Some haven’t lived into full potential.
Some live in the fear of failure deemed “certain doom” hailed by the very ones claiming freedom. For what is freedom anyway but an equal chance?
A chance at the same choices “as seen on tv” the reality star makes to create non-reality that profits their own personal reality.
Justice hasn’t lived an ordinary life either. Certainly not in the eyes of those of us who believe and embrace her concept.
The ordinary life is more like a road, sometimes with a map, more days seemingly without one. Most of us as children walking barefoot through soft green grass, upon sandy shores or on ordinary days, sometimes standing on hot pavement realizing it’s time to get off before the pain causes damage, have dreamed a different life than the one we experience today.
Extraordinary people live ordinary lives. Maybe we’ve just forgotten that.
Meet and greets of significance are typically not met by appointment but by synchronicity and the mutual acknowledgment thereof.
A serendipitous welcome of another’s warmth —I see you.
The momentous flow of consensual energy —I feel you.
A well-lived life is built on that significance discovered between you and me.
Between “us”
When humans are at their best, we walk home together out of war zones and into our neighborhoods. We bring bread, pick up broken glass, or offer a hand to our neighbor carrying too many bags who replies “good timing.”
We give a wave “hello” and a shout “how beautiful a day.”
Behold a New World.
A peaceable world.
Proven-winner world.
That’s where most humans wish to reside. Isn’t it?
Lastly, a glance backward thus we might rest our eyes upon ancient battlefields and hear the whisper off dead soldiers lips asking —“what are we fighting for?”
We haven’t lived ordinary lives. But in our search for it, might we find its unpolished gem, our heart of the sea, retrospectively, the gift all along.
I see you. I feel you.