FEBRUARY 1st, typically a gloomy and frigid day as most winter days in Boston, Massachusetts seem to be. Not this one.
It’s been 4 weeks today since I quit my corporate job I so loathed. Lowest in the food chain, my bank job had made me utterly miserable and longing for the person I used to be some short months before its start. Believe it or not, but jobs, no matter how mundane and insignificant, have the power of changing us. Better yet, the cubicle holds us in the grip of obedience, twisting our perception of our true essence. So what does all that have to do with February 1st?
This day turns out to be very different, special. A record-breaking temperature of 60 degrees holds the city in its gentle, hopeful embrace today. I leave the fitness center where I now work and inhale air so deeply that a piece of my hair (which is always in my face) almost goes to my brain. I make my way through downtown and head to the Charles River – Boston’s outdoor gem. I know exactly where I’m going.
The wind pushes my hair back and plays with the scarf that hands from my shoulder all the way down to my right knee. I’ve reached my destination – the children’s park. How I love the swings! They remind me of the past summer, when I first moved to Boston and met one of my best friends. He and I would jog by the river talking about our aspirations and wondering wether there is something about the world that the home-work-home corporate zombies don’t see. Then we’d swing high;.f*ckin high, that the possibility of the jaded metal swing breaking is all too real.
When I was a child I never knew how to swing. My parents weren’t too keen on letting me to either. “It’s too dangerous, you’ll hurt yourself,” mom used to say to her fragile only child. And you know what? I believed her. I held on the the comfort of fear and never let myself go too high. That was 15 years ago.
Today, on February 1st I fly high. So god damn high. My thighs are feeling sore and my crotch starts to sweat. And in a split second, thoughts unable to catch up with the feeling inside, I know exactly what I want in life. I want to fly. I want to feel free, to breathe clean air, to listen to the water, to be able to swing all on my own and to forever preserve the stupid smile that has spilled all over my face in this moment.
Have you ever felt like that? Can you point to a moment when you felt like you knew exactly what life was about, when you were in touch with your truest self?