Life...unlived

Well, the intent was to write a blog once a week. And I imagine that will be the case once the dust has settled a bit. But there are just too many things to tackle in one blog.

It’s only been a week. Only a few of those days have been on my own. I’m thinking of grabbing a thesaurus to find another word for “overwhelmed,” because I definitely think that has been the recurring term for this entire experience thus far.

First thing is first: this city is beautiful. And I’m not just talking about all the gorgeous landscapes; I’m talking about its colors. I’m sure that sounds particularly crazy. Everyone wants to have beautiful buildings sans graffiti.

What some may call graffiti, others call street art. And Colombia has not shortage of street artists. The streets are like art galleries amongst God's greatest tapestry; Colombia's mountainous nature. But the colors of the random artistry remind me of something so strange. People live here.

I mean people actually live, not just exist. I’m a big proponent of story telling. In such a big city, it seems the graffiti that colors the street are attempts to write their existence. I believe stories are meant to be shared to enhance the value of our humanity. But we only get to create those stories if we live.

Talking to the woman at the hostel about my work schedule completely shocked her. Do you want to know something crazy? She said the amount of hours we worked was “so sad.”

Isn’t that funny? And she isn’t the only one. Another gentlemen asked what a typical day was like. And when the schedule was shared, he grimaced and, once again, said it was “sad.”

“So when do you enjoy your life?” How many times have you actually stopped to think of that? You work. You take care of family/kids. You work. You cook. You clean. You work. But when do you actually just sit? When do you go to a restaurant or bar, meet a stranger and smile and actually take interest in something that is not scheduled?

This is a new way of life for me. And I’m digging it. I’ve met people from the U.K., Canada, the States, Brazil and, of course, here in Colombia. Their stories are fascinating. Their views are interesting.

And, while I think I have a wonderfully interesting group of family and friends at home, when I talk about what I do, I could really only say work. And, they’re right, that is kind of sad.

I gave a nod to Jeremy Brazeale, in my book. Mr. Brazeale and I went to school together. I hadn’t talked to him over six years when we chatted online and he asked if I was doing something I loved. The answer was a resounding “no.” He encouraged me to change that.

Our conversation inspired a poem I wrote that night called Something I Love. While editing my book recently, I read it and began dissecting what “something I loved” would really look like. Here I am, seven years after that conversation; and I finally understand what he was moving me towards. (I’m a slow study)

It’s not often we get a chance to take a moment and forget about being responsible adults. But, even if only for a moment, I’m encouraging you to find your love and live it. That can be two hours at a park or six months in another country. But life is too beautiful to go unlived.

#janellecolombia