This I Believe..

Essay for my English 2010 class inspired by this.

When I was a young kid, I would sprawl out and latch on tightly to my trampoline. I would lay on it for hours. I would peek through the small little criss-crossing threads that made up the black mat. Gazing through these tiny squares, I would stare at the green, shadowed grass below. Intently watching it sway with the breeze, or lazily stand. I would feel the static creep in my hair and tickle my skin. When I was a young kid, I learned to appreciate taking my time, viewing life in slow, small and detailed ways. I have seen hummingbirds drink sugar-laced water out of strawberry red ornaments that hung from the sun weathered orange trees in my Grandma’s backyard. I have heard the buzzing of bees fly over me and the hum of flies’ wings as they would ferociously pump by my ears.

When I was a young teen looking for an escape, I would lie on my trampoline and search out satellites in the dark nighttime sky. Following them with my eyes, I would watch them slowly trace around my world, never skipping a beat. When I was a young adult, I had to sell my trampoline. Life sped up and no longer could I lay and inspect my life and all the interesting things that filled it from its black, comforting mat. I forgot what the stars looked like, and I missed visually painting portraits in the clouds.

Life got crazy. I had to make decisions that were all my own. I no longer had time to make tea and wait for it to cool. I was forced to burn my tongue instead. It was as if I was sitting on a merry go round that people and things in my life were spinning for me. Life became blurred. Even though I no longer have the comfort of my trampoline to perch myself on and examine the intricate details of my new, crazy world, I decided and wearily stepped off the merry go round and took a deep breath.

When I woke up this morning, I laid in my bed for ten minutes before I got up. I cooked my eggs on low and I listened to the spring birds tell their stories from the winter. I laid out my clothes before I put them on and tied my laces tight. I wrote down my wishes for the day and made promises to myself. I did not rush through yellow lights. I waited and did not smear the ink that just needed time dry. I felt the cold air bite my ears and turn my nose pink, I laughed with my friends and cried to my long distance mother. Today I again viewed my life in slow, small and detailed ways. Today I remembered I believe in taking my time.

What do YOU believe?



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