On my flight back home, they played Yes Man.
It wasn’t a great movie — rather predictable and cliche, and definitely not Jim Carey’s best.
But I enjoyed the idea behind it: Say yes to every opportunity to do something new even if you don’t feel like it, because eventually you really will feel like it. And saying yes to new experiences is the only way to live.
So tonight, I said yes to going out with my roomie and her two friends. I’d been feeling a little sad and homesick, and after crying at the park during my lunch hour, tonight I’d wanted to go out to a cool cafe with young people and good music so I could feel more connected to home. But as soon as we got in the car and I realized that these friends were almost 20 years older than me, I felt bummed. I disliked the girl instantly, and as for the guy, I casted him off as lame.
We reached the cafe, and I made an effort to be interested. But by the time we sat and ordered in the almost empty room, I started feeling sad again, like life was seeping out of me, missing, left back home.
And then, the direction changed. The guy started talking about why matter doesn’t exist, how big the universe is, why our self comes first. And the girl talked about her life and all she’d been through. I was so interested in both, I felt my eyes burning wide open and still as I absorbed every word. I had a million questions for both, but every question I asked led to five more. And every answer they gave me created five more.
We reached home, and roomie and I discussed the interesting night. Then we forgot about it, I played some songs, and we had another dance party in her room. With weights in hands, we made up moves and laughed about how we’d use them at the clubs in the summer back home. And then, that was it. No thought of home, no nothing. No more. Mind and heart were both here, now, with roomie. And I felt blessed. And that was simple. And that was that.