My sister jumped into my room, snatching my rolling-chair away from the desk and grabbing my hand, “You have to come, Anastasia!” she cried. “The whole family is invited!” Inwardly laughing, I grumbled about having to leave my work uncompleted and made a big show of agreeing to accompany her to her last soccer practice. “I guess I can come,” I drawled, feeling that as I spoke each word, her smile managed to grow even wider. My mother drove us to the practice fields, and we filled the car with crucial conversation, debating with mock intensity where we would get ice-cream afterwards and the “fun practice” that her coach had planned. Past years had included a huge game of tag and my sister’s personal favorite: dodgeball. Twenty minutes later,
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With that, I understood empathy not through the abstractions written in dictionary definitions, but rather through the smell of freshly mowed grass, my sister's wide grin and dirty cleats, and my own beating heart. Adulthood, I came to the conclusion, was not defined by a paycheck, birth year, or the ability to legally buy alcohol drinks. Rather, it came with the realization that the one can view the world through a multitude of lenses, and that the ones least self-centered are often the most gratifying.
Later, I began to realize that not only could one change lenses, but change aperture and shutter speed, as well. Sometimes, reality seems dismal & unchanging, but reducing the aperture and increasing the shutter speed produces an entirely different picture altogether. Other times, reality is so bright and brilliant that one's only impulse is to make as many memories as possible, reducing the metaphorical shutter speed to mere fractions of a second.
And with this epiphany, I stepped into a pair of well-worn shoes that belonged not to a person -- a father, a mother, or even an older sister -- but an emotion. I was clothed in compassion and adulthood alike, for the two were threads in the same
With that, I understood empathy not through the abstractions written in dictionary definitions, but rather through the smell of freshly mowed grass, my sister's wide grin and dirty cleats, and my own beating heart. Adulthood, I came to the conclusion, was not defined by a paycheck, birth year, or the ability to legally buy alcohol drinks. Rather, it came with the realization that the one can view the world through a multitude of lenses, and that the ones least self-centered are often the most gratifying.
Later, I began to realize that not only could one change lenses, but change aperture and shutter speed, as well. Sometimes, reality seems dismal & unchanging, but reducing the aperture and increasing the shutter speed produces an entirely different picture altogether. Other times, reality is so bright and brilliant that one's only impulse is to make as many memories as possible, reducing the metaphorical shutter speed to mere fractions of a second.
And with this epiphany, I stepped into a pair of well-worn shoes that belonged not to a person -- a father, a mother, or even an older sister -- but an emotion. I was clothed in compassion and adulthood alike, for the two were threads in the same