I forgot what it means to be truly alive.
Not just living, but truly alive. To actually feel the crisp, cool air layering upon your skin. To actually enjoy a walk outside, taking in the scenery and the smell of fresh pine and cedar. I forgot what it means to be truly alive, because I was far too busy trying to capture a moment that simply cannot be captured to its fullest extent.
You see, beautiful scenery can be captured. I can show you my travels, that time I went out for dinner with a few friends, or that time I got as drunk as a skunk at your favorite local bar. But never in a single photo will I be able to capture real emotion or the true essence of an experience fully lived within a picture. Some things just cannot be reproduced.
You can show someone the picture they took on the day they got married, but that person will never fully be able to comprehend to the same extent the love, passion, and joy that they felt in that photo by just a small snapshot of it. You can show someone a picture that was taken on the day their first child was born, but that person will never be able to fully feel the pure bliss, delight, and wonder that was felt in that photo that day by just showing a small glimpse of it.
Yes, it is true. We are so much quicker nowadays to try to recreate a moment, yet, so delayed to say to actually try and absorb it’s full color in regards to actually experiencing it. As a result, I’ve decided to put my phone down much more often and the people around tend to like me more when I’m actually present with them. Who would have thought?
Who would have thought life was about so much more than just sharing it with your friends? Who would have thought that the amount of likes we get on our Instagram selfies in the Caribbean don’t actually tell the full story, but just a perception of it? And who would’ve thought that you can be fully alive and awake in this world, yet totally dead and asleep, if you’re not careful enough.
I forgot what it means to be alive, but now I remember what it means to truly live.