Walt Whitman
started what would become one of the most loved and hated collections of poetry
in American history with the words, “I loafe and invite my soul.” Right now, I am leaning and loafing.... at my
ease observing a green-covered hillside backlit by one of the bluest skies I
have ever seen. What is in front of me
is not necessarily beauty. These rusted
tin roofs, broken electrical lines and the colorful array of ragged clothes
hanging on a clothesline would never make the cover of National
Geographic. But something about the
smoke from the tortillerias, the ominous clouds carrying earth’s most precious
assets, and the unfinished buildings of shotty concrete construction across
from me… something about these things makes me feel alive. I invited my soul – or maybe my soul invited
me – into this world, and now that I’m here I just feel so alive. Maybe that’s what true living is, checking the RSVP box on
your soul’s invitation to life, saying yes to sinking, drowning in a world of
your soul and your self. Leaning and
loafing in there, that’s what I’m living.
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