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The Art of Life
***** …Is in that moment somewhere between flying and falling…or falling and flying. I can't quite tell. It's somewhere along the heart-pounding, blindfolded walk between bliss and utter heartbreak. It's in that "omigod" moment when you really decide to take a chance…
It's in the balance of desire and discipline…along that fine line between foolishness to fearlessness. It's in the moments of unexpected tears, of goosebumps, of doubled-over laughter over the most trivial things.
There was a moment, when I was living in Buenos Aires…
walking down a narrow, cobblestone street amidst a busy fair…
I stop dead in my tracks and feel tears surprisingly surge into my eyes.
It's a couple dancing in the middle of the street.
They are at least 70 years old…
They are "just" some tiny old people running their Sunday errands…
They are the only ones moving to a slow, wafting tango.
They are oblivious to the audience of eyeballs that have gathered in awe…
They move tenderly, intimately…
As if they are alone in their living room.
They move as if they know nothing and feel everything.
They are completely inseparable from each other, from the music.
They are the most "alive" beings I have seen in years.
I am breathless. I am crying.
I am moved.
The song ends.
The couple slows to a stop.
The crowd disperses and everyone gets back to their "lives"…
I stand blinking. A few stand blinking with me.
Did they feel that too?
Did they see the same living poem that I just witnessed?
I think so. I hope so.
The Art of Life reveals itself in these moments…the seemingly unremarkable and totally fleeting…but then again, isn't life fleeting? It's in knowing that we are completely temporary…and truly embracing this knowing. It's recognizing that life is simply a string of these moments…and opening yourself to as many of them as possible.
The Art of Life…god knows, I haven't mastered it. But I think, just maybe, that's what we're here to do…to move and be moved.
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