Cause I got hands in my pockets
It was a lovely morning in Cali. No rush to make coffee or breakfast as I have been job hunting for a couple months now and working mostly from home...
With the second cup of coffee I set down to my email and there it was. Another one of those:"Highly impressed by your resume and background...but...chose candidate that fits closer"
Oh well, you always have two choices how your day will go... I took a deep breath and walked out in our garden.
My dog excited for possible adventure start wondering around our open backyard ready to chase anything that will move. And so there I am...quite bitter walking down the hill and...hands in my pockets as usual. Such a habit of mine...not the smartest one I would suggest...
And I started to think about them...such an idiotic gesture I realized. Walking down the hill with your hands in the pockets is not the smartest thing to do...not slightly. But I just couldn't help myself. And than I started to laugh. It all came together at that moment.
There was a time although very short that my father was part of my life and among few things I remember from this time there is one I always will. I still think it was the only smart thing he taught me. He said:"never walk with your hands in your pockets, as you might fall straight to your face!" And he meant it! And so did I when I chose to resist and as many other kids to revolt against your parents I chose to have my hands in my pockets whenever I was around him...made him furious and blaming my mother for bad education.
It soon than just became a habit of mine even when he wasn't around which just happened to be almost always. But the habit of "facing possible face-first-hitting-the ground because of my stupid childhood revolt"just stick with me.
And there I started to think about all those non-sense habits and gestures and things we do just "because"or to revolt against someone just to have the attitude, just to have different opinion just piss someone just just just...
And maybe I even like it, knowing that there is a possibility to fall hard and have no control over when we chose to tight our hands in the pockets. When we cannot move from attitude to the common sense even though we know we are wrong.
Well...many things can finally start to make sense when you only have part time jobs and can spend hours wondering around open nature of your backyard.
Somewhere, sometime ago I red about the healing power of the trees, so i walked to the bigger one and hugged it as my life depended on it and just could finally see the beauty of that morning. Hummingbirds, sun, breeze, clear view so rare in LA and my dog wagging her tail...
And so I walked back to the house, picking up fresh pomegranate...putting it in to my pocket as I no longer had my hands in them...playing Alanis Morriset's "Hands in my pockets" song in my head for the rest of the day:)
With the second cup of coffee I set down to my email and there it was. Another one of those:"Highly impressed by your resume and background...but...chose candidate that fits closer"
Oh well, you always have two choices how your day will go... I took a deep breath and walked out in our garden.
My dog excited for possible adventure start wondering around our open backyard ready to chase anything that will move. And so there I am...quite bitter walking down the hill and...hands in my pockets as usual. Such a habit of mine...not the smartest one I would suggest...
And I started to think about them...such an idiotic gesture I realized. Walking down the hill with your hands in the pockets is not the smartest thing to do...not slightly. But I just couldn't help myself. And than I started to laugh. It all came together at that moment.
There was a time although very short that my father was part of my life and among few things I remember from this time there is one I always will. I still think it was the only smart thing he taught me. He said:"never walk with your hands in your pockets, as you might fall straight to your face!" And he meant it! And so did I when I chose to resist and as many other kids to revolt against your parents I chose to have my hands in my pockets whenever I was around him...made him furious and blaming my mother for bad education.
It soon than just became a habit of mine even when he wasn't around which just happened to be almost always. But the habit of "facing possible face-first-hitting-the ground because of my stupid childhood revolt"just stick with me.
And there I started to think about all those non-sense habits and gestures and things we do just "because"or to revolt against someone just to have the attitude, just to have different opinion just piss someone just just just...
And maybe I even like it, knowing that there is a possibility to fall hard and have no control over when we chose to tight our hands in the pockets. When we cannot move from attitude to the common sense even though we know we are wrong.
Well...many things can finally start to make sense when you only have part time jobs and can spend hours wondering around open nature of your backyard.
Somewhere, sometime ago I red about the healing power of the trees, so i walked to the bigger one and hugged it as my life depended on it and just could finally see the beauty of that morning. Hummingbirds, sun, breeze, clear view so rare in LA and my dog wagging her tail...
And so I walked back to the house, picking up fresh pomegranate...putting it in to my pocket as I no longer had my hands in them...playing Alanis Morriset's "Hands in my pockets" song in my head for the rest of the day:)
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