I feel… bewildered. As if my life is happening and I am a spectator. Maybe it’s the jet lag. Maybe it’s me. It is amazing how one’s perception of experience can fluctuate. There have been moments in the last six months (or year) where I’ve felt as I feel now: viewing my life as one views an intriguing & peculiar film. Then there are those times where the essence of life is so punctuated that I can almost feel the individual oxygen molecules being absorbed by my body with each breath. The colors around me are vibrant, every sound is crisp & clear, every texture is new. Even each scent and flavour of the moment seems to exist solely to remind me of how alive I really am. The beam of light called life has refracted and every hue is visible in it’s dazzling entirety.
Then the ironic truth of the disparity between being the observer or being the experiencer hits me: I get to choose which one I am.
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