It’s not always about me

Day 65. A Saturday. A nostalgic story.

Today I went to watch a play and I felt the familiar feeling of wanting to merge with the walls emerge and I caught myself wondering how I’m so contrary.

Here I’m perpetually turning the spotlight on myself and when I’m in a tangible public spot I need walls – not always those made with bricks and mortar.

So today is a celebration of the awesome spectator moments, those moments where all you did was watch, but somehow they are ingrained in the stories you live to tell.

  • Like the time I heard a friend sing for the first time and the entire auditorium was filled with his amazing bass voice.
  • Or the time I watched my brother perfect his dive – he caught the right amount of spring arched his body gracefully and dove right in. Nailed it.
  • Oh! The time a friend’s painting stood out among several other crazy beautiful paintings.
  • Or the time I was at the finish line as friend ran an entire marathon.
  • Or the time a friend downloaded the app he built to my phone.
  • Definitely the night my friend made me switch seats so she could spot me in the crowd as she got betrothed.
  • Or the time a friend played Robinson Crusoe and I got to cheer as loud as other cast members’ mothers.
  • The time I live streamed my friends graduation just to hear her name mispronounced.
  • The time I got to stand in awe of a friend, she was a rock as she did the toughest thing any daughter can be called to do – she buried her father.
  • The time the brother got on stage to steal the show along with his best mate, playing a kindergarten teacher.
  • Or the time I watched a friend go ice skating for the first time and manage to look incredibly awesome with the help of a Wikipedia article.
  • Every single time a friend/cousin has said I do.
  • The time I watched my parents dance with reckless abandon.

Being a spectator has its perks!

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