Nirvana

Today after rocking out to the Spice Girls on the elliptical (and therefore almost falling off of the elliptical...), I walked into one of the food courts on campus to get my Starbucks on. The cash register lady handed me my cup and pointed to the self service station a few feet away. I made my little masterpiece, but pulled a Larry Price by standing by the machine and repetitively taking huge sips and then refilling the few millimeters of liquid that had just been gulped. After the fourth cycle of this, the register lady began eyeballing me.  I reluctantly meandered off toward the exit. As I passed the Jamba Juice a hipster film student (complete with prescription Ray Bans, red flannel, and monotone voice) ordered a “Nirvana.” My first thought was, ‘Golly damn it! I don’t want coffee, I want Nirvana!’

Wait what? I want Nirvana? I started thinking about an article I read several years ago about Buddist monks who lived high up in the mountains of a foreign country. They had been practicing meditation and studying the concepts of their religion since they were literally toddlers. These men had never had any contact with the outside world. What would they think if they were to be plopped in front of an American smoothie restaurant and offered a physical form of a concept they had devoted their lives to--“Nirvana?” What would they do when the pink drink was handed to them and they were ushered off with a quick and unenthusiastic, “Have a nice day. NEXT in line!”

Though the word nirvana is not important to me (because I am obviously not a practicing Buddhist monk from a high altitude far, far away), I’m sure there are weighty words that I mindlessly throw around on a daily basis. How many times will I see a friend eating a fudge sundae from my favorite sweet shop and say, “Oh I hate you!” before I become desensitized to those words and end up actually saying it to someone I love with whom I’m arguing with? Don’t I want to save my “I love you’s”  for the people that I would turn into a shell of a girl if they were to be taken out of my life? Aren’t “I really miss you’s” meant to be said (or sent in this day and age) to someone who when we are sitting alone on a park bench and can’t help but smile up at the sky because their familiar laughter is echoing against the insides our temples? 

I really do hate some things. I really do love (a lot) of people. I really do miss people who used to be in my life and aren’t anymore... I just want to make those words more substantial than a strawberry flavored froth.