The daffodils are out in my garden.
Some at the back, just arriving, some towards the front of my back garden in full blast.
The cherry tree right outside my window has leaves on it as well.
At this time of year, you blink, and you miss it.
All of a sudden, it's not dark; it's light.
All of a sudden, there are no plants, and then there are.
It's like that thing I've kept talking about since I watched The Fault in Our Stars.
It's like falling asleep, gradually, gradually, then all at once.
It's hard to appreciate these things, isn't it, even though these are the things which make our soul sing way better than any of the stuff we collect or the things that we get?
There's a new movie out by Wim Wenders called Perfect Days.
It's a Japanese movie with subtitles.
It's about a guy who cleans toilets in Tokyo and appreciates the wonder of every day.
He listens to music on cassettes in his car, like Perfect Day by Lou Reed and spends time with his niece, who runs away from home.
He just appreciates what it's like to be alive a little bit, like we were told in Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl.
And so, when I step out for a minute from the madness, craziness, and the constant fire hose of mental and just look at the daffodils in my garden, it makes me feel really happy and appreciate all the things I have.
This is perhaps the thing that people understand least about me: the fact that the stuff that I do on a day-to-day basis in my work is not everything I have; it is not everything I am.
I watched the guy in Perfect Days with a significant amount of jealousy, a significant amount of envy of the simplicity of his life.
And so, when this is all over, whatever all over means, I would be quite content to be him.
I could find my happiness there, and I think that is what gives me the strength to go forward for all the challenges ahead of us, good and bad, knowing that in the end, it would be ok to be him.
Blog Post Number - 3734
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