made up words

When I first started this blog, my father was the first person to say, “alivety is not a word, what are you doing.” You see my dad is a scholar and thus making up words is not something he quite understands. But being the weirdo creative person I am, I make up words all the time (you should try it). The word alivety, however was a word I started using during a hard time for me last year. I wanted to keep track of the moments where immense joy or “aliveness” came out of intense pain or “deadness” and so when I needed to describe it in my journal I would call it alivety.

We often see life as made up the big things like graduation, or marriage, or having a baby, or retiring. And so we go through life waiting for it to start, waiting for the next big thing.  Often I need to remind myself of the little things. I forget that my little heart is beating without my help, and that my lungs know how to work without my direction, and that no matter how hard I try not to I have to blink. I forget to be thankful for the very fact that I am alive. Sometimes the reminder is a beautiful sunset, or a warm shower after a cold day, or a stack of pancakes. 

The sad thing is that when we try and distract ourselves from the deep pains of life, we end up distracting ourselves from those deep joys as well. They don’t seem as rich or full, or maybe sometimes we don’t even see them at all. In moments when I really get this, I am discouraged. Usually it’s after spending three straight hours stalking people on Facebook or after inhaling my lunch in a record 5 seconds and realizing I didn’t taste a thing. What happened to experiencing things? What happened to allowing life to course through our veins in every moment joyful and painful?

I truly experience life in the mos unexpected situations; like break-ups, or the flu, or intense fear. At these times, I am very much aware of what is going on around me. There are so many little things piercing my heart, and so many little things soothing my soul. Many of you can relate.That morning after your heart has been broken, when you wake up and finally feel a glimpse of hope. When you’ve been sick for days and you finally feel better enough to eat some cinnamon toast. Coming to the realization that fear is just a feeling and it’s not going to kill you.

 Life at every turn is a gift. It cannot afford to be missed or rushed past.