All We Have

As the door swings open, ambient lights dance in hues of crimson and gold, welcoming me to the sanctuary I call "my third home."

“One 16 oz of your coffee of the month, please.” I request. I’m handed the dark elixir of life, accompanied by a smile and quick chit-chat that elevates my morning.

I nestle into my usual space for reading and writing which holds the perfect view of my favorite mountains. But today, my timeless friends are shrouded behind fog, where, if venturing among them, one would bleed frost.

Still settling into my space, I see my weekend haven is not only vibrant in holiday colors but also in faces and voices. Familiar faces and some not quite so, all bundled up to endure the Alaskan winter.

The religious and non-religious alike congregate here with their holy books–words written by God or words written themselves.

Students preparing for their academic exams and others diligently working on their respective projects.

Cheerful conversations of young and old surround me, with smiles that could melt the ice off the frostbitten windows.

Parallel universes politely collide and I feel fortunate to be a witness. In between the festive air, Magic I felt in childhood peeks her head. I feel joy.

Settled, feeling, and fleeting, dialogue from the British comedy-drama series, "Fleabag" enters the scene.

Belinda (high-profile business woman): “There’s nothing more exciting than a room full of people.”

Fleabag (main character): “Yeah, except most people are…shit.”

Belinda: “Look at me. Listen...”

Belinda: "People are all we've got. People. Are. All. We've. Got."

I just finished this show and I regret not watching it sooner. But as it often happens, the things we find seem to find us with perfect timing.

Lately, I've been watching more films and television shows. I've grown weary of social media and YouTube. Scrolling feels like I’m being sucked into a vortex of people yelling.

They may be yelling with ill intentions. They may be yelling with good intentions, but yelling nonetheless.

Even books (non-fiction) are temporarily losing their allure because they feel like a more subtle form of yelling...lecturing. *shivers*

(Blasphemous, I know. Especially in this age of "self-improvement" which I've grown to loathe.)

I've been drawn toward visual expressions of the human condition. Interactions creatively and hilariously portrayed in shows like "Louie", "Master of None", "Atlanta", and now "Fleabag."

"People are all we've got."

That line lingers.

It's a fitting reminder as the year comes to a close. Earlier, I wrote "The Light Across Distant Lands" which illustrates my love for people through my travels.

As I grow older, not only do I forget where I place my car keys, but I do tend to forget my love for people.

I feel I have become more angry, rageful, impatient, and prideful as the years pass by.

I don’t condemn these feelings. If anything, I’ve grown to like these feelings. I welcome them with open arms because it’s within my nature and I will never fight Nature.

But what’s not of Nature is thinking I’m separate. Which is the greatest sin, the Original one.

Note: I will NOT spout social aphorisms such as “love thy neighbor as thy self” or tell you to look at everyone with love and kindness.

That would be a "should" and a "should" comes from a false space. Starting from a false space ends in a false place.

So what's true?

What's true is I can be extremely prideful. I’m aware of my pretentiousness. I’m addicted to aloneness. I'm horrified of humanity because I’ve seen the lack thereof.

But at the same time…

I do love Us. There‘s no barrier between you and me. For I am you, and you are me. I easily slip in thinking otherwise.

“You're an interesting species.

You're capable of such beautiful dreams, and such horrible nightmares.

You feel so lost, so cut off, so alone, only you're not.

See, in all our searching, the only thing we've found that makes the emptiness bearable...is each other.”

- Contact, Carl Sagan

Though I constantly contemplate the life I want, I’m reminded to see the life I have.

The life I have are the people I have.

Oh, how lucky I am to "have" them.

I am lucky to have parents who love me and I them.

I am lucky to have siblings who aren’t spiteful and who I can laugh with often.

I am lucky to have cousins who are always welcoming and genuinely wish each other well.

I am lucky to have a nephew who is so full of life and kindness and a niece who’s perfect beyond compare.

I am lucky to have had grandparents who loved perfectly.

I am lucky to have friends near and far. Though we may not talk much (my apologies), I cherish every conversation and small moment we’ve shared.

I am the luckiest person in history. I feel this. I know this. All because of You.

"People. Are. All. We've. Got."

I'm sure I‘ll crave solitude in the next hour or wish to escape into the mountains. I love Nature because I’m not separate from Nature.

...but People are of Nature too.

Good people, bad people, loving, hateful, enlightened, unaware, holy or sinful.

Mere words and false labels that I foolishly hold. Today, I’m unsure what those (or any) words mean anymore.

But what I do know is…one day, we’ll all pass away.

This year, I’ve said hello to people I’m lucky to call friends, but I’ve also said goodbye to a loved one I‘m lucky to have called family.

Though we are told to live without regrets, I know I will have one and I’m content in having it: I wish I laughed more with Us because I will never get enough of Us.

For all we have is each other and the stories held between us.

The Sun we share illuminates through the veil of clouds and I’ve regained the picture-perfect view of my favorite mountain range.

I’ve just finished my coffee.

But it's not the caffeine that awakens me or the mountains that give me awe. It’s seeing Us with Us that gifts me vitality and fills me with appreciative wonder.

“I love and admire my species, living and dead, and am totally dependent on them for my life and well-being.”

— Steve Jobs