Holes

We often find ourselves in holes.

Holes that we dug ourselves. Holes that are hard to see out of, because we don’t even know we are them in the first place.

It wasn’t until I was driving in the sunset, windows down, music on, that I realized I was in one, and had been for quite sometime.

Maybe it was the nicer weather, maybe it was the country tunes causing me to sing to myself, whatever it was—I’m so glad it happened.

I forgot what it was like to enjoy a moment.

I forgot how amazing it feels to be alive.

Amid my self-inflicted angst and anxiety, my fear of the future and my need to fulfill and exceed anyone and everyone’s expectations for myself, I forgot to enjoy what was right in front of me.

The smell of fresh cut grass, the sound of your favorite song, the breeze in your hair.

The feeling you get when you laugh so hard you start to cry, when you are so free that you get butterflies just because you can.

I forgot.

These are the moments that matter, this is all that ever matters.

We are alive right now, and that’s all that should matter.