The Power of a Smile

My presence is loud, just as yours. Aside from the power of spoken word, there is the power of presence: we are felt. But the tone and magnitude of this feeling is customizable and well within our control. 

I enjoy walking, so I do it often. I set a destination, only to give time a purpose. But the destination, however, is not the purpose. The purpose lies in the uncertainty of circumstance along the way. This uncertainty has given me bruises and hugs; both as a result of my own choices. 

As I walk, I am alone. Given we all have the opportunity to control one thing in this life, ourselves, I take away all other variables. No matter who I talk to, what I see, or how I feel, I mentally isolate myself. Once I am completely alone in my head, I am able to cut ties to action beyond my consent. If someone else can control my action, they own me. Manipulation at fault of myself. 

During the space between my home and destination, there will be people. Some are nice, others are mean, but most are indifferent. There is no way of knowing someone’s intentions. But, I usually side with paranoia. I try not to act off paranoia,  but the maintenance of my safety requires it. 

My walk starts as I cross a field of green grass. Though the field is big, it is empty and quiet. My music is loud and the top of my head feels the touch of the sun. The difference of a step turns the field to concrete and I am back in the city. My escape was short but peaceful. 

The first people I see are all familiar with each other. I know this because they stand closely together in a circle; loud with laughter, but visible holding the same paranoia as I do. I feel this paranoia as one man notices my approach and the others notice his focus is no longer at them, rather me. 

In daydream, I cross the street to avoid contact with them. My action labels them as a threat. Though I say nothing, my message is heard. A few cross the street as I do, carrying a raging passion — the very thing I tried to avoid. By perceiving them to be bad people, I made them such. I manipulated the structure of my reality. Maybe they would’ve been good people if I thought of them as such - or maybe not. No one knows. But now I have a knife to my side and a whisper of threat in my ear. My phone, wallet, and necklace given to me by my mother disappear as I walk away. 

That imagination went horribly wrong, so I sink into another: I keep my gaze low and my chin tucked. I continue to walk the same sidewalk they occupy. I am tense and nervous in my approach. Without breaking stride, I walk through the middle of their circle, eventually bumping into one of their chests. The ending repeats. 

Since my reality is not a daydream, I am forced to make a decision. I approach what has mentally ended in defeat, with a trust in people. My music is good, so it’s harder to lower - but Young Slo-Be would understand. I walk with confidence in my comfort, though a part of me is acting. As I approach the group, I raise my head and nod a signal of respect. I step off the curb before intruding on their gathering and walk around them. I am aware, so I do not look back, though my paranoia wants me to. I walk away with my pockets full —and my heart too. 

I have walked a lot of steps in my life, most of them alone. I have been in places where I am not welcome and have felt it. I have met people who prefer a shove over a hug and a fist over a handshake. I have acted in ways I regret - probably more times than not - but am proud. I am proud because I can label them as regrets and not habits. 

The feeling of value is a human necessity. I don’t think there is a recipe for its permanent assurance, especially one that is true for everyone. With that being said, I truly believe in the power we have within. My uncle has always told me that I am God, just as he is, and the rest of humanity. Not in the sense that I am an all knowing figure, but in the sense that if I search, I will find. It’s a philosophy sculpted by a trust in oneself, promoting a lifestyle rooted in an attachment to emotions and a power over one’s actions.

Siempre Para - Vicente Fernández