Are triggered like gremlins lurking in the background, unbeknownst to us, until they transport us to a time long forgotten.
They are painting the hallways. I am reminded of training cruises from 20 years ago. Upperclassmen used to make us clean the bulkheads with degreasers. It was middle of winter, and we had to wipe down every surface. Little did I know back then that what we were doing were busywork, to keep us occupied. No reason to work hard. No reason to wipe away until I got my very first cold sore from too much shock to my body from the stress and the cold.
Some kids probably figured this out back then. They either hid or goofed off until we were told to do something else equally stupid or useless.
It’s funny to be reminded of how naive I used to be. And now to some degree still naive. I like to be reminded of my past self from these moments.
I am also reminded to listen to my body. It’s always trying to keep me safe. Take care of the entire me. It is the vessel to carry my soul, so it doesn’t float away. It is the physical anchor that keeps me grounded to this life until it is ready to part ways. I am grateful to my body for all that it’s done, for all that it has endured. I often wonder why we are so cruel to our bodies, uttering “mind over pain”.
If there is no body, there would be no pain. If there is no body, there would be no mind. If there is no mind, there would be no soul. If there is none of these, there would be none of us. Perhaps that’s why we are prone to physical pain. The mind can take a lot more than the body because thoughts, especially painful ones can subside into the subconscious for future retrieval. But the body cannot do the same. The heart must continue to beat. The lungs must keep us breathing. The legs must keep moving is forward. The arms must flail to get the world’s attention. The body must go on, and it must get daily rest. Its regimen is unique from the mind’s.
All these thoughts sparked by a stroke of a paint brush.
Life. It’s a gift to be savored and enjoyed.