Nature

Nature is strange. Nature is beautiful. Nature is complex.

I don’t mean wildlife and outdoors, I mean our nature. Our nature as human beings. Our instinct.

From the dawn of man, instinct has been the driving force behind everything. Instinct has led us through trial and error, positive and negative, hatred and love. Instinct has not always put is on the right path, but it has been there for us fall back on in all situations. As civilization has changed and culture has been altered by others, our mindsets and ideologies have morphed and adapted, pushing us further from our natural instincts and beliefs. Often we second guess ourselves, think on matters longer than we should, and sit back without interjecting for the sake of others or the sake of reputation.

This is not natural. This is not right. This is what we should strive to be against. Our minds are powerful and intelligent, existing on many planes and realities, while our bodies are a vessel, carrying that which is inconceivable.

That which is our mind.

To turn against ourselves is…well, a disgrace and deceit of that with which you are closest.

That which is your mind.

Even if those decisions you made, those actions you took, and those thoughts you filled every page of every blank journal with turn out to be untrue or wrong, at least you can truly tell yourself, you trust yourself and no one can stand between you and you.

When this happens in concession and you find incorrectness in every instinct you hold, perhaps it is time to consider yourself and make a change deep down. A change far beyond clothing, a change far beyond scent. It may very well be a change in yourself wherein a new you, a true you, appears.

Running

The takeoff is perhaps the most physically and mentally challenging action you will put yourself through in the entirety of your run. Those first steps where your legs realize what you are initiating and second guess themselves, stumbling for a moment before tensing up and supporting the rest of your body, becoming a truly useful extension of you.

As muscles tighten, your lungs fill with air, easy at first as the influx of wind from the front fills them twofold, but later becoming strenuous as they cry out for slow, drawn out inhales and exhales. The rest of your body can’t handle what your lungs want, instead they need oxygen now, they need it immediately, they need to be free… quick!

Breathe in.

The further you travel, the slower time passes. You lower your head in frustration. Why wasn’t I doing this yesterday? Why can’t I be finished? I should stop soon… Each and every thought slows you down until you are jogging at a walking pace. Cars pass, people sitting comfortably within, AC at just the right temperature. Sweat seeps from your head, drenching your hood and dripping down each strand of hair into your eyes.

Blink.

Suddenly, your speed increases. You still feel tired but you are less exhausted. Legs are numb with repetition. Breathing is no longer an issue, it is just a matter of concentration. A matter of being and living. What is this new feeling? Have I slowed down? Am I in good shape now? Can I have a piece of cake?

Not yet.

You have now reached your maximum. You have pushed through the negative and burst into the reality. The world is now slowing as you speed up. Everything is a blur except you. You and your goal. You can go on. You can run another hundred feet. Two hundred. Three hundred. Four…

It’s not worth it to stop now. You might as well go on forever. This is where you become strong. This is where you actually grow. This is where you are free.

When you are finished, you slow your pace. Your legs realize what you are initiating and second guess themselves, stumbling for a moment before tensing up and supporting the rest of your body. You are finished now. You have done well, and you will do well again.

Emotions from The Great Depression

                   (A piece which secured my position in the National English Honors Society.)

“Why?” the man spoke, his voice squeaky and cracking with confused emotion. He dropped his head down, cupping dirty hands over tired eyes. The fingernails were long, uncut and stained black from hard work. The palms were calloused. Bumps rising from the fingers base like mountains on a prairie of white cotton. As the man pulled his hands downward, his eyes were revealed, bloodshot and wet with the salt water of mourning. The pupils were blue however, deeply contrasting the bright red which so surrounded. A spot of purity in a sea of sadness. As his hands drug down, the skin was pulled, cracking and folding from years of beating sun on a face creased with the sober expression of thoughtlessness. The bottom lip curled downward, revealing rotted gums, still holding yellowed teeth, as a snake clenches its prey. His eyebrows furrowed as the man squinted to find emotion in his partners face. None could be discovered. His brow relaxed, eyes giving up on a search for what could not be found. Reaching up, the man ran his fingers through his hair, slicking it back with the sweat and oils of an unkempt laborer. A laborer who could not afford the luxuries of soap and tooth powder. A laborer who spent his hard earned dollar on bread, daily. By nightfall the bread would be gone, consumed, leaving no evidence of work that day but the worn man himself. At dawn, the man was up again, commuting to work for yet another dollar, yet another loaf of bread, yet another sleepless night.

This methodical routine has been man’s way of gathering hope.

Money equals opportunity.

Money equals satisfaction.

Money equals comfort.

Money equals happiness.

Money equals need. The need for more.

The need for more opportunity.

The need for more satisfaction.

The need for more comfort.

The need for more happiness.

In this we find, hope cannot always be found. Hope must be brought back to us. Hope must be returned if we are greedy enough to lose it.

I See Homeless People

I see homeless people. They become more common every day.

Now we’ve all heard stories, read articles, and even spoken about economic decline and lack of work ethic so present in today’s society. These words are not intended to address those subjects however. They are intended to show the other side of the story and depict a world where 5 degrees temperature difference can cost a life and a dollar can mean the new beginning for another soul.

"Bum Sign" Noah Calvani

It was mid-November and cold. I sat in a chair on the historic downtown mall of Charlottesville, facing a Five Guys and contemplating whether the 7 dollars in my pocket would be of use in the future, or would a delicious, greasy cheeseburger benefit me now. I decided on the latter and was about to stand up, when the body in the adjacent chair shuffled. From under a pile of blankets, jackets, bags and various other materials, a figure emerged, face creased with the squint of hopelessness. To my surprise, the woman smiled at me as I gazed in amazement.
“Hello” I said tentatively.

“Hi” the woman replied bluntly.

“Boy, its cold” she continued, catching my attention as I’m always interested in ones critique of the weather.

“Yeah…” I agreed.

Conversation continued awkwardly until she began in on her personal life:
“I’m a PE teacher” She led off with, immediately making me second    guess her sanity. There was no way such a person, buried beneath a wardrobe of dirtied clothing, bags of canned food, and sporting a rusted walker could be a PE teacher.

“What…?” I asked in slight amazement, staring at the walker which had 3 plastic bags of food from the local Lucky 7 market on each handle, bending them with the weight of unhealthy consumables. Following my gaze, the woman understood my questioning and began to explain in further detail:

“I got hit by a truck! Walking through the parking lot is not as safe as you think, even if you do look both ways. I’m trying to tell the kids to be safe and careful all the time, but they don’t listen... They just walk away from me…” She spoke sincerely. Her voice was slurred and wavy with the ways of insobriety. She continued by telling me of her hip replacement and eventual knee surgery. She told me of the physical therapy that must be done and her long wait before walking normal once more.

“When will you start work again?” I asked, assuming she was comfortable with the fact that she was so obviously homeless, broke, and out of work.

“I am a PE teacher.” She replied strongly, as if not letting go of the past and instead remaining with what she once was and hoped to be again.
“You can’t just stand up and walk away after something like that….it takes time and it takes a lot out of you. I’m trying to tell the kids to be safe and careful all the time, but they don’t listen. They just walk away from me….” She repeated, before I thanked her for her time and ran into the restaurant just before closing.

After the fact, and even still today, I think on that conversation and constantly go back and forth as to whether I believe all that the PE teacher said. I think of how outlandish it is that she was once a teacher of fitness and health and how now she has nothing and is the pinnacle of disability and uncleanliness, and then I don’t. I realize how easy it is to lose everything and how commonly it happens. She is not the only person I have met who boasts a life of perfection and happiness, yet stands in tattered rags.
A fireman

A preacher

A truck driver

A stockbroker

A PE teacher

No matter the place, no matter the situation before or the situation now, no matter the person.

They are proud to be people, just like you and me.