expectations of grandeur

Today I left calculus office hours and walked into the elevator. As the doors closed I took a deep breath. You see the elevator smelled just like every other elevator I've been on. So I closed my eyes.

When I closed my eyes I envisioned the grandest elevator rides in my short life. Like an elevator ride to the top of the Empire State Building. Or the elevators in a hotel at the beach in Jamaica. In that brief period of time I drew up a completely different scenario than the reality I was in. I envisioned myself in swimming trunks and sandals. I could sense a bellhop next to me, his dark black skin a wild contrast to the all white hotel uniform he adorned. When I exited the elevator I had to be sure not to bump into his cart loaded from top to bottom with a family's luggage.

And just as quickly as I built it up it was gone. I wasn't in a beautifully decorated hallway of a hotel. There was no ornate carpet at my feet. Instead there was a grey linoleum floor leading me out to the rainy street so I could walk back to my dorm.

In the 15 seconds I was on that elevator I was able to construct a new world of sorts. All based off of the smell that presented itself to me upon entering. As quickly as I drew it up reality wiped it away.

That's okay though. That's life. Grandeur isn't permanent. Or maybe it is. Maybe there is something grand about the dull grey elevator and linoleum flooring. Maybe it's grandeur comes from it's ability to morph into something beautiful. Even if it is only momentary.

We build mental constructs of the things that please us. Certain smells, sights, and sounds bring about these memories and allow us to relive them.

In that moment on the elevator I was 17 again. I was in Jamaica and there was nowhere I'd rather be. The fact that it only lasted a few moments isn't bad. It showed me how much more there is. It showed me that the past is all around me along with the present.

Our everyday lives are filled with slivers of our past, large chunks of our present, and shimmers of our future. These slivers, chunks, and shimmers embody who we are and give way to who we will become.

A scent might remind you of a certain place or person. Or maybe a certain person in a certain place under certain circumstances. But times change and scents stay the same. Memories fade and life goes on. That's the way it is. Time, and elevators, wait for no man. (Unless you're one of those people who continually press the "door open" button).

Make your own grandeur and smile about it.

NP: Californication- Red Hot Chili Peppers