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Friday, May 30, 2008Yeah, My Heart Was Singing
Have you ever had one of those perfect moments in life, a small moment when your senses conspire to make your heart sing? A moment when you realize this trip called life is amazing and beautiful?
For me the Zen like moment arrived out of the blue on Memorial Day when all of my senses seemed to be in tuned with the world around me. Maybe it was because it was the first weekend of my vacation or maybe someone had slipped some hard core drugs into my cocoa puffs earlier that morning whatever the reason everything seemed new to me, as if I were seeing and hearing them for the first time.
Watching a boat slowly making its’ way down the river from my window I noticed the sun’s rippling reflection on the water, the way the water seemed to sparkle like gold glitter in certain spots amazed me. Several sea gulls flew close by my window on their way towards the river. I could clearly see their eyes and I felt a chill go up my spine as I realized they were checking me out too. The day was perfect; the sky was clear, white cotton candy like cumulus clouds framed by a perfect blue sky. I closed my eyes it was all just too beautiful to take in at once. A warm breeze perfect for kite flying caressed my face blowing my hair away from my face gently rocking the wind chimes above my window a beautiful “ting… ting” ringing in the air. I’d never noticed how pretty the sound was before, it made me smile.
The gentle yet persistent breeze carried all of the aromas of my neighborhood up to my window introducing them to me one by one in waves. Luckily for me it chose to bring me the good ones, the ones that smelled of freshly washed laundry hung out to dry, cut grass and blooming flowers leaving the eau of sweaty ass and arm pits back in the park where they belonged. Keeping my eyes closed I concentrated on the various scents delighting in them. One minute I was enveloped in the scent of the ocean of the nearby Long Island Sound then the breeze died down only to pick up again several seconds later this time carrying a trace of burning charcoal from all of the barbeque grills being fired up in the neighborhood.
From the right of me I could hear the faint sound of salsa music playing as the crowds down the block on Stickball Blvd cheered the players on in the annual memorial day stickball tournament, New York’s Bravest vs. New York’s Finest, the fire fighters against the cops were playing. From somewhere in the back of my mind the fact that Stickball Blvd was renamed Steve Mercado Way in 2002 in honor of the 9/11 fallen fire fighter and stickball player surfaced. I opened my eyes slowly force myself to look towards the right beyond the tree line beyond the water towards the empty space where the twin towers once stood. I remembered it had been a beautiful day back then too. I felt the familiar sting of tears behind my eyes and a lump formed in my throat. I forced myself to look away from the glaringly empty spot in the skyline and to look towards the Statue of Liberty. The fact that both a symbol of terrorism and a symbol of freedom were part of my view was not lost on me.
Suddenly I heard a rumbling in the sky, a squadron of air force jets flying over my building. At first I was alarmed wondering what was going on then I remembered the air show, and the fact that it is fleet week and thousands of service men were in the city for the event. I found the rumbling of the jets comforting and my thoughts turned to our servicemen stationed in countless of places some of where we are actually welcomed and others where we’re as popular as a case of herpes. I whispered a silent prayer for their safety, for their families.
I lost track of time standing there observing my little corner of the world. I remember a feeling of tranquility washing over me and a feeling of gratitude. I reached I was grateful that I was alive to experience the moment. Corny as it may sound I wished that everyone could experience a moment like this one of complete peace. Yeah my heart was definitely singing.
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