Society is commonly too cheap. We meet at very short intervals, not having had time to acquire any new value for each other.
We meet at meals three times a day, and give each other a new taste of that musty old cheese that we are. We have had to agree on a certain set of rules, called etiquette and politeness, to make this frequent meeting tolerable and that we need not come to open war.
We meet at the post office, and at the sociable, and at the fireside every night; we live thick and are in each other’s way, and stumble over one another, and I think that we thus lose some respect for one another.
Walden // Henry David Thoreau
Today I brought my mom to my tattoo artist for her second tattoo.
Five years ago, when I was 17, my mom took me for my very first tattoo, a peace sign, (I went through a pretty intense hippie phase), and she got her first tattoo as well.
I figured to commemorate the occasion I would get the same tattoo she got, “Joie de Vivre” on my foot, as she inked “Karma” on her wrist.
My mom is easily my closest confidant, and over the years I’ve been so lucky to have our relationship flourish as I get older. She inspires me to take risks and embrace struggle.
As I depart for my trip in April, I will be searching for a greater sense of “Joie de Vivre.”
Not too shabby for a Monday.