When you look back on your life, what do you remember most? Personal achievements fade from memory as you age; setbacks and failures aren’t there; arguments argue their existence away; simple daily tasks blend together and take care of themselves. Only one thing remains – moments of fulfilment. Some things make you feel pure joy, but you wouldn’t want to do them again. Fulfillment is different. It’s when you’re so unbelievably happy you could do that same thing over and over again for the rest of your life.
Small, little things shared with loved-ones is what comes to mind. Things like getting ice-cream with my parents, counting the red cars; laughing and playing with my brothers, building a fort out of couch cushions; or sneaking downstairs
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at midnight as 3-year-old to watch TV with my dad. That last one happened when I was about 3 years old and I still remember it in perfect detail. I always will. I was always a cute little kid, at least that’s what my parents say.
I had a small pointy chin, with a slightly mischievous grin that went from ear to ear. My head, epitomized by my giant forehead, was at least twice the size of my scrawny little body. I looked more like a happy little bobble-head than anything. My parents joke that the doctors said to pick me up by my head and not my body – I know it’s not true, but I can’t help but believe it. I’ve always had a strong understanding of what the rules are and have an easy time following them; however, even back then, I felt this need to break a rule every now and then. I’m a bit of a troublemaker. You’ll never know when a break a rule, though. I’ve had lots of practice avoiding the law (aka my mom) when breaking the rules, and it started back …show more content…
then. It was midnight and I was getting bored. My mom had put me to bed at eight, like she always did, believing that I would fall asleep. I didn’t – I couldn’t, I wasn’t tired yet. She had the Mozart’s Greatest Hits CD playing softly in the background. It was already on its fifth time through the playlist. I was growing bored, listening to the same songs over and over and over again. The CD had almost bored me to sleep if it had not been for my older brother in the bed across the room. He got out of bed and told me to go get some snacks from downstairs. “We can’t have food in here. Mom said so. And we can’t be up after bed-time,” I parroted back to him, “and why can’t you get some snacks?” “Who cares?” he replied, “We’ve aten in here before, and I’m hungry.” “Okay then, go get some food.” “I can’t. I can’t get over the gate – you can,” he claimed as he walked towards the doorway with the toddler gate in it. It had grey pads with a slightly faded dark lime green covering around the bars that held the cool grey mesh up. It stood about three feet tall, and my brother about a head taller. “See, I can’t get over. You can.” “Fine,” I moaned, “I’ll go get some food. But if mom sees me I blame you.” As was the standard procedure by that time, I grabbed my pillow and tossed it over the gate; stepped on my brother’s back; and leaned my giant bobble-head over the gate. Over I went, landing right on my head. “I’m okay – thick skull,” I said while knocking on my noggin. I had no idea what that meant, but I heard my parents say that and thought it fit. Throwing the pillow back over the gate, I embarked on my mission: Get snacks. I headed down the hall to my parents’ room. I knew that if the light was still on my little mission would be risky as they would still be up to hear me sneaking around the house. Luckily it was off. Good, they are asleep. That makes it easier. I thought. Continuing down the hall, I had reached, probably, my most dangerous adversary of all – the creaky stairwell. One wrong step – one loud creak – and I’m a goner. Carefully and monotonously I made my way down the stairs. Touch with the toes. . . slowly put more weight on it. . . okay, that one’s good. Next step. Touch with the – creeeeeeak. Oops! Not there! Not there! On and on I went, step by step. I finally reached the bottom of the stairs when I saw a ghostly light that made my skin crawl. Dad’s up. Should I go back? No, I’ve come this far. I thought, enjoying myself. I was like a little ninja sneaking into an enemy castle. I put my shirt up over my mouth and nose and crept along into enemy territory. Breathing as shallow and quietly as I could, I got right up behind the chair my dad was sitting in. I slowly leaned around to see if he was awake, careful not to let him see me. His eyes were closed. I breathed a little sigh of relief – he was asleep too. Then I saw the whites of his eyes. I jumped and my heart skipped a beat. I darted behind the chair as the TV paused. Shoot! What did you do!? You let him see you! Even if he didn’t, he saw you move! You idiot! I thought while trying not to shake out of panic. I waited until the commercial break was over before regaining my ninja composure. I was off to the kitchen. Down the hall and around the corner lay the prize, the crown jewels, the safe overflowing with gold – hidden behind an immovable wall of wood, locked by the uncrackable genius at the child-lock company.
A nervous excitement came over me as I stared at the light amber wood-grain on the only thing that held me back from my holy grail. The complex plastic screw-on lock was no match for my expert skills: I had it open within minutes. Shimmering in the moonlight from the kitchen window was the piles and piles of potato chips, pretzels, cookies, marshmallows, and so much more. The salty-sweet sights were a satisfying sensation to see. I reached my hand into the treasure trove of wonders, in an attempt to retrieve a big bag of Doritos. As is everything in a ninja’s life, this too was booby-trapped. It had a noise alarm that went off every time you touched one of the
treasures. As gently as I could, I lifted the bag of Doritos. This final challenge proved greater than the stairs. Just as I was about to complete the task, the bag slipped from my grasp. “Who’s there?” echoed a commanding voice from the other room. I froze. “Jacob, is that you?” Shoot! My cover’s been blown! Maybe if I don’t say anything he won’t notice. “Who is it? Don’t make me come out there!” Oh no! He knows I’m here! What do I do? What do I do? What do I do! “It’s me, Jacob” A slightly larger man, not in height, emerged from around the corner. He stood tall as a giant to someone who still needed a stepstool to pee in the toilet. His large, chubby head resembled mine but had a permanent color of sunburn. I watched the expression on his face change from anger to happiness as he started to laugh. “What do we have here? You getting some snacks? Well, don’t just stand there. Pick up the Doritos and let’s watch a little TV,” he said laughing. I instantly forgot about my mission. I had been caught, but it didn’t matter to me – I got to stay up and eat some snacks with my dad. The night couldn’t get any better. He sat right down in his dark pine rocking chair and put me right on his lap. I distinctly remember thinking about how cool it was to be up, after bedtime, watching TV with my dad. I didn’t even care what we watched, just as long as it was just like this. Little did I know that there was a show on that would make the night even better. A rodeo. As he was flipping channels during a commercial break, we came across a rodeo that was on. They were featuring bullfights. One after another, these crazy guys in leather pants up to their shoulders got up on this crazy bull. They’d have control for a second before the rampaging wildebeest flung them off to the other side of the arena – then it would charge them. Then, a swarm of men would then surround the beast trying their best to tame the devil in the creature so the next man could ride (and so the current guy wouldn’t be killed). The whole thing just had us mesmerized. We sat there ‘oo’-ing and ‘ah’-ing while staring at the beautiful dance on the television. We were enthralled by the ride, entranced by the beast superior to a herd of men, and eager for the next. If at any point we wanted to look away, we couldn’t. To me, it felt like I was watching a Charlie Chaplin movie, the way they moved; only, this one had more action. I felt nothing but pure joy to be hanging out with my dad. Then it happened. I will never forget this image for as long as I live, we must have rewound the TV about a thousand times. One of the guys who was bucked off managed to get to his feet just in time for the bull to charge him. He took off running, booking it as fast as he could. But the bull was right behind him. When he reached the wall, he jumped up over it. As his foot made contact with the top of the wall, the bull’s horn made contact with the man’s bottom, and it didn’t stop there. The guy shot up like a spring. That sure gave him the surprise of his life. We burst out laughing – I think food actually flew out of our mouths as we laughed. “What was that? I have to see that again!” he exclaimed in tears as he rewound the TV. Seeing it again was somehow even funnier than before. I fell off the chair, rolling in tears of joy. We were laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe. I caught my breath for a second, looked at the guy spring up and fell back down laughing. “He’s going to feel that one in the morning!” my dad tried to say between the fits of laughter. It doesn’t seem so funny nowadays, but looking back, it still makes me laugh. Especially when you look at the expression on the guy’s face in slow motion. The bull wanted to have some fun of his own and that guy was not ready for it. I laughed then, and I can’t help but laugh now. It was such a perfectly euphoric moment. Not everyone appreciated the hilarious situation though, because the next thing I heard was a howling witch cry from above. “What’s going on down there? Chad! Do you have someone with you? Gosh darn it! You know he’s supposed to be in bed!” “Uh-oh!” I whispered in panic. I jumped up and looked around panicking, not knowing what to do. I was caught for real this time, and there was no escape. “Gotchya! You’re busted, little mister! I thought I put you to bed hours ago!” my mom screamed. Turning to my dad, “What are you doing with him up? You know he’s supposed to be in bed sleeping!” “But Mom! Can’t I stay up a little more?” I whined back. “No, you’ve already stayed up long enough,” She said dragging me up the to my room. She put me in my bed quietly, looking over to make sure my older brother was still asleep. Then she leaned in to yell at me quietly. Sometimes the quiet yells are scarier than the normal ones. But it didn’t matter right then, I was still caught up on how funny the last bull rider was. The second she left I started giggling again. I kept thinking to myself how perfect of a moment that was. It left me feeling happy and fulfilled. It was the perfect night, despite being caught. I got to sneak around like a ninja, eat snacks, and watch TV with my dad. I couldn’t wait to do it all over again the next. As I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, I kept giggling from time to time. I just couldn’t get over how great my night was. It was over now, I remember thinking, but that didn’t bother me. I can always go back tomorrow night and do it again, I thought as I walked over to the door. I opened it, expecting to see the green gate. To my surprise, there were two gates stacked on top of each other. “Now how am I supposed to get over that?”
Fast forward my future to what psychologist Erik Erikson identifies as the Late Adulthood (55- 65 to Death) stage of life in his Stages of Psychosocial Development. There are two options as one reflects on their lives and they include: Integrity vs. Despair. I hope through the choices I make that I am in the Integrity department of happiness and content, feeling a sense of fulfillment and meaning and that I have made a contribution to life. Of course, there may be disappointments in life and we don’t know what the future holds and although I am nervous and anxious of where I will be in the next three months and in the next thirty years, I am also optimistic and excited to see what the future has in store for me.
According to Maanvi Singh’s, “You Can’t Buy Happiness, If It’s An Experience”, “A growing body of research has shown that experiences tend to make people happier than material possessions...But they tended to feel more positive about experiential purchases, and their feelings about material purchases were more likely to be tinged with feelings of impatience” (Singh 2-4). One’s own adventures can generate the feeling of satisfaction and gratification within oneself, allowing a person to be truly pleased with life. A person should always give importance to their own experiences and accomplishments. Memories should be treasured by a person as they are unforgettable and things that cannot fade away. To sum it all up, touching upon one’s memories and intriguing background can make a person truly
...r past with little or no regrets and will be satisfied overall. If a person is unsuccessful in this phase they will feel that they wasted their life and they will only think of regrets. They will feel despair (Cherry, 2011).
In psychology, Erik Erikson created a theory on the psychosocial stages of life. In his theory, different periods of life correspond to different needs for living happily. For example, during the final stage of life coined “Ego Integrity vs. Despair”, lasting around the age of 65 till death, Erikson hypothesized that people need to look back on their life with a feeling of fulfillment, or else they’ll live the rest of their life with regret, bitterness, and
Moments in our lives, will often leave a memory, some vivid, others vague. A memory recalls an experience we have had; coming of age opportunities usually are those that become memorable. Hannah Goodwin gives advice to, “Make time to create memories” (2013, para. 1). Goodwin continues to explain that, “Making memories does not require tons of money, or need to be elaborate vacations or expensive gifts.” (2013, Para. 1). I strongly agree with Goodwin’s statements. Some of my most memorable experiences came from simple things I did as a child, such as learning to ride a bike, playing board games with my family, and even playing in the snow. It was those simple, yet fun activities that all created life-long memories for me. Not only did these activities create great memories, but each one taught me something that has helped me become who I am today. From learning good sportsmanship while playing games with my family, to learning how to build a snowman, though simple things to learn, I got to learn them while having fun. I think that creating memories is important because as you reflect upon past experiences it becomes eas...
able to reflect back on some of the experiences I have had in my life that have
On December 21, 2017 at 2028 hours, Officer Allday and I, Sgt. Wilson responded to 1693 Highway 90 (Fred's Pharmacy) in reference to a Malicious Mischief call.
My heart was beating and my hands were sweating. My teacher asked me a question and I wanted to cry. I didn’t know how to say my response in English and was afraid of the other kids making fun of me because I thought my accent was too strong. All the students stared. “Just answer the question” one girl murmured. Every day I’d sit in the same seat without talking. And even though I had spent a month in the same classroom I felt uncomfortable being there. I moved to the United States from the Dominican Republic when I was twelve. I knew the word for “mariposa” was “butterfly,” and I knew how to introduce myself, but that was about all. Some people would even become frustrated due to the fact they couldn’t understand me, or the other way around. Knowing how they felt about me not being able to communicate made me want to shut myself off from them.
When my sisters asked why the pack lived at a different place mom just said that the den was only for pups being born. It is also used as a way to raise the pups, until they are strong enough to live with the pack. Mom then led us to where the pack was staying and we met all of the other wolves (Wolf). There was one wolf that looked like he was hanging back from the others. Mom said that he was the lowest in the pack because he was different from us and he was also weaker. When I asked how he was different mom told us that he came from the humans and that one of his parents was in a human’s pack. Mom told us not to worry about him hurting us because he knows better.
I’ve spent the past ten years of my life pushing my body to the max. Sore muscles and blistered toes have become common for me. In fact, I can’t remember the last time a week’s gone by without one body part or another hurting. My blood, sweat, and tears are probably embedded in the floorboards of my studio — but I wouldn’t trade it for a thing. No matter how much pain it causes me, I keep coming back. Dance has truly become my life. It’s a form of self expression that I’ve learned to use as a method of self improvement for every part of my life. I often use it as a coping mechanism. When I’m upset, the barre is there for me to lean on. When I’m angry, I can put on my pointe shoes and prance my problems away. I could be in the worst possible
One memory that comes to mind belongs to a day of no particular importance. It was late in the fall in Merced, California on the playground of my old elementary school; an overcast day with the wind blowing strong. I stood on the blacktop, pulling my hoodie over my ears. The wind was causing miniature tornados; we called them “dirt devils”, to swarm around me. I stood there, watching the leaves kick up and then settle. My friends called me over to the wooden playground surrounded by a sea of mulch chips. The bridge squeaked furiously under our weight. An unannounced game of tag started and we found ourselves weaving in and out of the wooden fortress and the trees that surrounded it. My shoe became untied and I took a time out to tie it with a method that no one uses here. We heard an adult voice; it was time to go in. We lined up single file, supposedly in alphabetical order but no one ever does. I liked that, I never liked being in the back. While waiting for everyone to line up, I looked up at the trees that line the walkway.
The first few years that I went to school were pretty tough, because I was just starting to understand what to do. I wasn't one of those smart kids i needed a little help but i pushed through it and I graduated. My teacher for kindergarten her name was Mrs. Romen-ello. Then second grade came and I was expecting all went down that year. I struggled trying to learn I couldn't focus like the other kids. Then 3rd grade came and I still wasn't all that smart I still pushed through it.
The wise fourteenth Dalai Lama once said, “...Human satisfaction must ultimately come from within oneself.” Life satisfaction is a fulfillment of one’s life expectations or wishes. It is important for one to be satisfied with their life so that they do not look back into their past and have regrets and disappointment because of missed opportunities. For most people, life satisfaction comes from enjoying everyday life and what they have made of themselves. When people are unsatisfied with their life, they often have regrets and wish they could turn back time and redo a certain moment or go back and take the risk they were too scared to take. A satisfying life often comes with the presence of happiness, adventures, and music.
When I was a young child I would love to hear my parents tell me that we were going on a trip. I would be full of excitement, because I knew that we would be going to a place that I had never seen before. My parents, my brother, and I would pack our luggage and venture out in our small gray minivan. Three of my most cherished memories in our minivan are when we went to Disney World, the beach, and the mountains.
Every person in the world has experienced competition in some way, shape or form. For some, it is a natural part of their everyday lives. In my own personal experience, I have experienced competition in regards to my grades, scholarships, and when I played sports in high school and middle school. I also had to compete in my high school orchestra for the highest chair in a certain section. Today, I am competing for my grades and will soon be competing for job positions as I enter the work force, once I become a college graduate.