and how are you?

we all know what it's like. it's been done to us and, if we're honest, we've probably done it a few times ourselves. the smile (with or without teeth), the limp-wristed hand shake, the sympathetic tilt of the head, the lifeless, empty..."Hi, how are you?"

I understand that social norms exist for a reason. I recognise the need for niceties, pleasantries and politeness. and of course one must appreciate the function that the unwritten social contract that governs each and every exchange plays in maintaining a sense of order in society. BUT,

"How are you?" is not a vague, ephemeral concept. it is not abstract, distant and unrelated to who I am. I cannot comment on it like a work of art, a current event or the weather. I can't just click 'LIKE' and move on.

you see, when you ask how I am, you're asking about my hopes, however grand and my fears, however terrible. you're asking if I still wake up feeling distraught in the middle of the night, if I still shed tears at the thought of loved ones lost, if I've found peace with my purpose in life, if I've begun to dream again, if I love myself enough to try loving others and if I trust you enough not to lie about the answer.

when you ask how I am, you release the genie from his lamp and fearsome is his wrath.

just something to bear in mind

so much

like the infinitesimal detail layered upon layer to create all that we behold,
or the immeasurable potency found in a kind touch.

like the staggering depths glimpsed briefly when eyes hold contact,
and the speechless eternity of silence holding the universe in its place.

I love you so much

and so we begin, anew

I think over again my small adventures,
my fears,
those small ones that seemed so big,
for all the vital things
I had to get and reach.
and yet there is only one thing,
the only thing,
to live to see the great day that dawns
the light that fills the world.

-inuit prayer-