poetry time capsule

my blog might have a few holes and be sort of out of order but its still quality content. 

https://poets.org/poem/life-and-art 

My poem is life and art by aldous huxley, 

This poem is sort of about seizing the day and how our time is finite. That is certainly something I have been thinking about a lot recently. This isn't how I intended to spend my senior year, and the summer after it, and maybe the first semester of college. Almost everyone I have talked to not from high school has been apologizing about how I'm missing all of these traditions and how I'm losing this sort of core part of the high school experience. This semester has definitely not gone like how I would've guessed in my junior year. And I'm sure that the case for most peoples For a while I was sort of upset and lamenting the loss of all of these fun traditions. 

I have been thinking a lot about what it means to seize the day, this may be considered oversharing so sorry if things get weird but I have been on antidepressants for a few months  now after being diagnosed with depression. I used to feel that happiness was sort of defined by the big things in a life or week or a day, like graduation or prom. But those events are just a few hours the majority of my life is sleeping and just kinda existing. For me seizing the day, especially in quarantine, has sort of become taking hold of the small things in my life: cooking dinner, going for a walk, playing a game with my family, reading, washing dishes, and all the other small aspects of living life. It's not so much for me about living every day like its my last or trying to go big or go home and plan huge events and activities, because all of those are just one tiny fraction of the petals on one of the flowers of my life, and if that's all I focus on, I'm losing a lot of flower. It's good to have goals and ambitions don't get my wrong but everything that culminates in a single achievements has 100's of steps, and making sure that we appreciate the 100's of steps as well as the single achievement. For me I guess that achievement is living? or like life? or something like that, and the steps are all of the small moments in my life that I don'think about because i'm planning something or my mind is elsewhere. Every once and a while its nice to sit back and just truly exist in the most ordinary and mundane of moments in your life, because that makes up the majority, and in quarantine that's all that there is.

This poem will make me think back on the time i spent in quarantine and the time I spent just experiencing the flowers wilt, and not mourning their passing, but appreciating it  It sounds a little dark and sad and sorry if you found it to be that way, but personally I think its beautiful.