To Be Human
I always thought that you can tell a lot about a person by they way they look. And by that Im not just looking at how they dress but more importantly their actions and reactions, their gestures, their receptiveness to the world around them; the whole package. Not in a judgmental way either, but more in a ‘wonder what your story is kinda way. I used to love studying faces outside the grocery store, in the car-park, standing at the traffic light, anywhere really. People are intriguing creatures. Were all so incredibly different, so unique, yet there are so many shared traits that undoubtedly connect us, unifying us as Human Beings. Making that infamous actor who hasnt been exposed to reality in years no more of a human than the Average Joe having a cuppa at the local cafe, and the Holier-than-thou priest no more of a human than the serial killers withering away in the state penitentiary. No matter how hard we try to deny it.
I remember seeing a small child once; a little boy no more than 3. He had his face painted with patches of soil, while making a marvelous batter out of the surrounding moist earth. He molded and shaped them to resemble little sunken cupcakes. As he stood placing the sticky looking heaps on the step, he giggled; his cheeks giving way to his smile of “almost there” teeth, which exuded such pride over his creations.
Somehow I feel as if Ive just experienced a precious yet oblivious moment with this little individual.
And I feel like hes connected to me;
Not physically or even on a personal basis, but as a memory; a reminder of how happiness can be found in even the simplest of things.