The day I started thinking..

Literally. I distinctively recall the day I gained consciousness. It was in kindergarten, must’ve been 3 years old and I was playing in the sandbox.

No grand revelation to this phenomenon, it happens in different extends to every single one of us.

What I find fascinating about this experience is to me, nothing before that day existed. For 3 years I had been alive, growing and impacting peoples lives, (albeit mostly my family’s) without having a single clue about any of it.

I remember no joy, no pain, no lessons, and yet I still experienced and developed through it.

Did even I exist during this time?

To everyone else, yes. Although, I interpret this as we interact with the world and gain experiences unconscious to what occurs to us, while still being affected by it.

We go through our entire lives full of experiences that creates memories and has an impact on people around us however, and for how many of those experiences are we actually conscious?

Waking up, going to work, waiting patiently for the few genuine and lasting moments in between. So much of our day to day goes seemingly unnoticed and it’s easy to fall in to routines of living.

This is the reason I strive to be in the moment, being aware of what occurs in my life, whether it be full of pain or joy, because without the presence in these moments I am only living and that is something completely different to actually being alive.