Hi! It would be of great service to me if someone can help with this essay soon. In return, I shall comment on those of others and aid small kittens. <3 Merci Beaucoup!
The poor door- no one seems to appreciate him. Every winter night, he stands guard at his post and withstands the cold, blasting wind that threatens to shake him out of his hinges. The door does everything in his power to resist that wind and ensure that his owners are safe and sound.
Yet, after a long night of his duty, he receives no thank you. Instead, the humans jab sharp keys into him and slam him closed inconsiderately. Even still, the door just politely moves out of his post to let them through, sadly watching them leave.
I feel your pain door, I feel it.
That story was just one example of how I can become oddly sentimental towards inanimate objects at times due to the fact that I believe that everything has a soul. No, I am not trying to start a controversial argument about religion or the afterlife, if this is what it looks like. This is just a belief I realize that I have had since I was a child that has allowed me to see life in a very interesting perspective.
Here, let me try to explain. There was once a time in every child's life when he or she had a stuffed animal for a best friend. We named the stuffed animal, we tucked it under our blankets, we talked to it; we infused our love and care into an inanimate object until it was a presence in our lives. It was almost as if this cotton, stuffed animal was alive and breathing. Now, if that dear stuffed animal has a presence, then to me, every piece of furniture in the room has just the same presence just like the door.
Every waking moment, the world is bursting with vitality with the energy of every individual thing in my environment. Even when there is no one around for miles, I cannot feel lonely knowing that even the floor is there to keep me company. This attention I give to everything allows me to see the smallest detail of an otherwise unnoticeable window, and appreciate the incredible structures that nature creates.
Yet this attention I have to the souls of everything does not stop, of course, with inanimate objects. In a crowded party when everyone is supposed to be celebrating happily, I can instantly tell if one person is about to collapse in tears despite the fact she is smiling, or if another person secretly loathes the party host when he is supposed to be of her closest friends. I see the slightest gestures that would not otherwise matter.
Maybe I am not alone in this ability. Perhaps all humans feel just the same about their environments and just have different takes on it- like mine with my "belief". For now, I have no idea. What I do know is that this way of seeing everything makes me care about everything just a little bit more and that this ability may come at a great advantage to me when multiple lives are in my hands in a hospital when I pursue my dream of becoming a physician.
But at the present, I am content with sympathizing with a door.
Why I don't believe in Punching Pillows.
The poor door- no one seems to appreciate him. Every winter night, he stands guard at his post and withstands the cold, blasting wind that threatens to shake him out of his hinges. The door does everything in his power to resist that wind and ensure that his owners are safe and sound.
Yet, after a long night of his duty, he receives no thank you. Instead, the humans jab sharp keys into him and slam him closed inconsiderately. Even still, the door just politely moves out of his post to let them through, sadly watching them leave.
I feel your pain door, I feel it.
That story was just one example of how I can become oddly sentimental towards inanimate objects at times due to the fact that I believe that everything has a soul. No, I am not trying to start a controversial argument about religion or the afterlife, if this is what it looks like. This is just a belief I realize that I have had since I was a child that has allowed me to see life in a very interesting perspective.
Here, let me try to explain. There was once a time in every child's life when he or she had a stuffed animal for a best friend. We named the stuffed animal, we tucked it under our blankets, we talked to it; we infused our love and care into an inanimate object until it was a presence in our lives. It was almost as if this cotton, stuffed animal was alive and breathing. Now, if that dear stuffed animal has a presence, then to me, every piece of furniture in the room has just the same presence just like the door.
Every waking moment, the world is bursting with vitality with the energy of every individual thing in my environment. Even when there is no one around for miles, I cannot feel lonely knowing that even the floor is there to keep me company. This attention I give to everything allows me to see the smallest detail of an otherwise unnoticeable window, and appreciate the incredible structures that nature creates.
Yet this attention I have to the souls of everything does not stop, of course, with inanimate objects. In a crowded party when everyone is supposed to be celebrating happily, I can instantly tell if one person is about to collapse in tears despite the fact she is smiling, or if another person secretly loathes the party host when he is supposed to be of her closest friends. I see the slightest gestures that would not otherwise matter.
Maybe I am not alone in this ability. Perhaps all humans feel just the same about their environments and just have different takes on it- like mine with my "belief". For now, I have no idea. What I do know is that this way of seeing everything makes me care about everything just a little bit more and that this ability may come at a great advantage to me when multiple lives are in my hands in a hospital when I pursue my dream of becoming a physician.
But at the present, I am content with sympathizing with a door.
