Just a Moment

The other day I made breakfast. French Toast, bacon, and eggs. After I’d finished cooking everything, I picked up my plate and walked in my room. I wanted to close my door, but I didn’t feel like walking all the way over to the desk and putting everything down first. So facing away from the door, French toast in hand, I leapt in the air, kicked my left leg back and said, “HI-YAH!” The door thundered shut. No one was around, I didn’t recently watch a Kung-Fu movie, nor was there any gain in my jump kicking my door. I just did it. And I didn’t even realize I’d done it until I noticed everything in my room was shaking. My form felt good. It felt professional.

Sometimes I wish I had a photographer following me around all the time like Mohammad Ali did, waiting to capture me at my best. Because at that moment - for that split second I bound in the air, I felt perfect. Have you ever watched a gazelle walk? If you haven’t, it’s an extraordinary thing. They keep their back perfectly straight while covering ten feet with each stride. All with a tiny twinge of their muscles. During this display of grace, the gazelle’s head and neck remain still like cast iron, while its eyes and ears dart back and forth, relentlessly processing nature’s information. Watching it becomes a humbling experience because you realize just how physically insignificant humans are.

But at that moment, I wasn’t human. I wasn’t bound by our pathetic limitations. At that moment I became the world’s illogical production. All with French Toast in my hand.

Hi-Yah.