I Believe in Hammocks

People tend to forget that they only live once. No matter what your religion is, or whether or not you believe in reincarnation, or soul, or life after death, the commonly accepted fact is that you cannot be the same person, occupy the same body, be composed of the same cells, the same phosphorus and nucleotide bases, that you are today. You will never breathe the same air twice, laugh at the same moment, or experience the same brilliant sunset. People get so caught up in their everyday lives, so weighed down by the stresses and difficulties that life presents, that they essentially let their stresses, anxieties, and deadlines dictate their actions and their enjoyment of life.

To all of those whom stress is the driving force in life, please listen to my advice: take a break, relax, and buy yourself a hammock. Yes, a hammock. As a child I would go over my best friend’s house almost every weekend. We played outside, in the pool, with half-penny people…you name it, we played it. But our favorite activity was to play and swing on the hammock. We would act out scenes of ships being ravaged by stormy waters, or of an airplane flying through the sky. We would wrap ourselves up in a cocoon and do flips. We would even try to grab the tree’s green leaves with our toes… I loved the hammock because of its ability to make me forget about the stresses in life—like the fight my friend and I had over what clothes the Barbie should wear—and instead focus me on the good times, the relaxing, fun, and beautiful times.

But the mysterious powers of the hammock are not limited to the open and imaginative minds of childhood. Just the other day, I was extremely overwhelmed by stress brought on by school, work, college testing and housing applications, quarrels with the family, and overall dissatisfaction with life. I thought I was going to burst. I was replacing my personal time with homework, and swapping sleep and happiness with studying and stress. Then one day my friend invited me over their house, they said that they had something to show me. When I go there my friend walked me around the house and in the middle of the lawn stood a hammock. After much poking, prodding, and words of encouragement (along with some swears for my stubbornness), and promises that I would not flip, my friend coaxed me onto the hammock. As soon as I got comfortable, my life seemed to slowdown. Forced to look up, I saw the stars for what seemed like the first time in ages. How long had I gone without noticing the splendor above me? I saw the sunset not as a countdown of the amount of time I had left before I had to start my grueling day all over again, but as a beautiful, relaxing wonder of the world. And when my friend’s cat playfully swatted at me from under the hammock, I laughed my first real, lighthearted, and carefree laugh in a long time. At that moment I realized that life is too precious, too short lived, too beautiful, too unexplored, too unappreciated to waste time being stressed and depressed. I realized that I was packing so much into my life that I could no longer enjoy it. I needed to lighten my load, to do things for myself because I wanted to do them. I needed to make time for me. I used to believe that a life passed by was a normalcy of life, but now I believe in hammocks.

So those of you who let work dictate your actions, who allow stress, fears, and anxieties rule your lives, treat yourselves. Spend time with family and friends, enjoy that bowl of extra fudge ice cream, take that trip to the spa you have been desiring, take that extra long shower, sleep in late, laugh at anything you find funny, sing out loud, dance when there is no music, sit out and watch the sunset, gaze at the stars…and most importantly, buy yourself a hammock.