When I Opened My Arms
18/10/16
The first time I really opened my arms was on October 18, 2016, which incontestably falls under the list of My Favorite Dates. I had slyly set out on a rebellious trip with one of my best friends, whose birthday is on August 27, into an empty, probably haunted, area of a building that was still under maintenance. The enjoyment we shared that day was unique, as it had ironically stemmed from tears of frustration, angry ranting and venting, as well as consolation and ‘counseling’ from the other party. After she had wiped her tears goodbye from under her thick-rimmed glasses and hugged me for a good minute, we ran into another unearthly world where our heavy footsteps echoed in corridors — a place with occasionally locked doors, and alarmingly empty rooms, void of any living soul, its floors layered with sand and dust.
Yet, in those ghostly and ghastly rooms, my day was, for several reasons, full of color and vibrancy. I was in such fantastic spirits that I opened my arms and unleashed a kind of laugh that I had never previously unleashed — one that yearned to be released. After I spun and spun, I started to ponder in awe over the (obvious?) fact that humans do not only laugh when something is funny — sometimes we laugh because we are really, really happy, and it was ineffable experiencing that firsthand. August 27 and I like to call it ‘the real laugh’.
The Physical and Emotional Link
People tend to greatly overlook the notable interconnection between our body language and state of mind. It may be well-known that how we feel is usually displayed through body language, but oftentimes the case is also that we are emotionally influenced by our body language; much like a fake smile eventually turns real in a few minutes (well, sometimes). I am still convinced that, had I not taken advantage of the room’s emptiness and outstretched my arms that day, I would have not gotten the chance to set free my ‘ultra-smile’. It may have still been trapped in my chest today, like a caged blue-bird, flapping its wings impatiently and vigorously, or would have ultimately and untimely perished from the utter despair.
I have been opening my arms ever since, forcing myself to do so when I least felt like it. Sometimes that is the only way to embrace a lovely moment before it evanesces. Last year, on the 16th of November, I ran outside our house in the corridors of our apartment with my arms wide open, simply because the plot of the anime I’d been watching took a great turn! This year, I opened my arms on the 21st of October, when a strong gust of wind blew around a hundred autumn leaves in my direction, as well as on the 28th of November, when the snow, a very new friend of mine, kissed my face wet and cold for the very first time. I must have opened my arms under the rain countless times too, as I don’t remember a specific date for an almost daily occurrence. It is a truly liberating feeling — to outstretch your arms as far as you can, with pure spontaneity and truthfulness, and allow them to welcome the warmth of ecstasy.
Happiness Matters
Perhaps I tend to give high regard to these minor glimmers of joyfulness because I have wasted years of my life being as timid as a turtle under its shell. My burning desire yet inability to talk to people and ‘just have fun’, as well as my awareness of that inability, often made me feel quite dismal. Every true smile felt painfully forced, and I felt that happiness was trapped inside me, even when it was there.
Ultimately, all this glumness was exhibited in my body language: my arms were almost always crossed, like I was cold, both literally and figuratively, my steps were deliberate and aimless, and my head was constantly bowed downwards, as if weighed down by an iron ball.
The sight I was most accustomed to was that of my feet, but I wanted to find interest in something bigger and higher, like the sky, with my chin up and back straight. I needed to give the happiness inside of me a mouthful of air, and kindly let it know “I know you’re there”. Sometimes, I still mention that day to August 27, but I don’t believe she’s aware of how much that moment would influence my upcoming days. When I open my arms, my chest expands, and I take notice of how grand the world is, how small my world is, and, with sheer content, give thanks to God for blessing me with the feeling I had once longed to feel.
