Reflection of My Day
As I had laid down in bed last night there was just one thought on my mind that approximately 24 hours later, I would writing a reflection of the day ahead of me. I wonder if this was the reason that I woke up earlier than usual today, or perhaps I just had never been aware of the bright sunlight that fell upon my closed eyelids everyday in morning until today. Now that I think of about it, maybe all this time I have been too addictively accustomed to waking up to the buzzing of my alarm clock, just like Amanda was addicted to popping antidepressants. Rituals are important, I had been living my life like one, but today I explored new rituals. It was weekend today; I had nowhere to go, nowhere to be, so I decided to do something new.
I remember standing there in front of the mirror, just looking at myself, just imagining looking at myself “through the eyes of someone else,” somewhat like what Amanda experiences in the film. It felt almost like an outer body experience, it almost felt as if I was someone else, observing my own reflection, and I noticed things I would have probably not have noticed before. I could notice that my hair had grown an inch or two over night. My reflection in the mirror seemed a bit taller than it was last night when I was brushing my teeth. I looked slightly slimmer than yesterday, I even felt like I had dropped some weight while sleeping. Maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me, or maybe this is how others observe us, notice these minute details that pass our eyes unnoticed.
I broke a mug today, my favorite mug, it wasn’t a pretty sight, the china had shattered to pieces by my feet and I remember staring at the mess, confused as to what had just happened. I am still perplexed about how the mug just abruptly slipped out of my hands. I remember walking to the kitchen after breakfast, that very same mug had been firmly gripped in my hand, then I all of a sudden I had felt the glass slipping out of my grasp, slipping down, and before I could have reacted and done something, it had already shattered to pieces right before my eyes. Perhaps unknowingly I had loosened my grip on the mug, or maybe the electrons in my mug pushed the electrons in my hand away. Like Reginald told Amanda, maybe I was not even touching the mug.
Maybe the mug was not even solid, maybe that mostly ‘empty’ mug was bound to slip out of my hands if I was not even touching it. Then again, the mug had felt so solid in my hand and I certainly had been gripping it quite firmly in my hand. Perhaps I had just been too careless that I just let go of the mug, but I have never been so careless before. Maybe things had just been happening differently today. I wonder how we feel the things we touch if we do not really touch anything and if nothing is solid. Solid or not, it felt quite heartbreaking to watch my favorite mug fall to its doom and I was not able to do anything about it. I felt so hopeless in that brief instance and I had a mess to clean up, which I did.
“Imagine what our thoughts can do to us” ("script-o-rama.com"). Mr. Emoto’s dialogue from the film that he had said to Amanda was running through my mind today while I was sitting at the table waiting for lunch to arrive. Just as that sentence kept replaying in Amanda’s mind, I could not stop thinking about it. Strangely, I was thinking about that particular dialogue from the film because of the lunch that was about to arrive on our table, roasted broccoli and bacon. To be honest, broccoli is one of my least favorite vegetables, and if this was just another ordinary day, I would probably eat the bacon and leave the broccoli behind. Then, I thought to myself, “Maybe broccoli doesn’t taste so bad after all.” Today was the first time I tasted broccoli in my life and it indeed had not taste so bad.
Maybe this is what led to Amanda’s eventual psychological breakthrough. My mother was surprised to see me eating broccoli, “See! I told you, you wouldn’t know how it tasted until you actually tasted it,” but of course, I knew better. Had I not thought that it would taste good, it would have probably tasted awful. I would have probably ended up puking it back onto my plate. It made me grin. I wondered what else my thoughts could change for me. I wondered if I could make the rest of the broccoli vanish if I just thought they were no longer there. Well, that did not happen exactly as I imagined it would, but I ended up eating the remaining broccoli, and it had tasted quite scrumptious when combined with the bacon. My day had already begun to change for the better by the time I was done with lunch.
I had felt quite bored today. I just did not feel like going anywhere like I always do on a weekend. It was evening and was watching The Lion King. I have no idea why I had chosen to watch that film when I had countless other choices. Anyhow, the film had reached the heart wrenching scene of Mufasa’s death. I already knew what would happen, other than in the film that is. I had known that I would be crying from the moment I placed the disc in the DVD player, I have always cried whenever watching this scene in The Lion King. I have never been good at controlling my emotions and if I cannot control them, maybe that means I am addicted to them. I had wanted to do things differently today, but I could not help but cry as the scene finally passed.
Now that I think of it, maybe I get so cranky watching that scene because my emotions of grief and sadness are wired to information my brain processes from that scene, maybe that is why I cry every time I watch it like I did today. I have no clue how I could gain control of my emotional state and maybe not cry the next time I watched The Lion King, or maybe not get so angry and frustrated every time the Internet gets slow. Not that it matters, but it is a fascinating thought, to be in control of your own emotions, to not reaction to situations as you would usually do. Well, so I cried like a kid while watching The Lion King, as I always have, but now that I look back at my day, I did a lot of things that I do not usually do.
I wonder how my day turned out to be so different. Perhaps I am addicted to my emotions but I willed myself to not be addicted to the usual rituals of my life. Maybe, the day unfolded so unexpectedly because I knew at the end of this day I had to write about it. Maybe anxiety was not the reason that I woke up before the alarm clock started buzzing. Maybe I have never been observant enough to notice the changes in my own body. Maybe carelessness had nothing to do with my favorite mug slipping out of my hands. Maybe that broccoli tasted so good because I thought that it did. Maybe I cry while watching The Lion King because I am addicted to my emotions and not because I get emotional watching a fictional cartoon character die. Maybe everything turned out to be so different today because I did not want to reflect on the same old mundane weekends. Maybe I actually created my own day.
Works Cited
"What The Bleep Do We Know Script - Dialogue Transcript." script-o-rama.com. N.p.. Web. 14 Dec 2012.
Arntz, William, dir. What the #$*! Do We (K)now!?. Dir. Betsy Chasse, and Matthew Hoffman. 2004. Film. 14 Dec 2012.
