Thanks day 6- Nephew. Thankful for this boy!
Thanks day 5- reading outside in the lawn, always.
Day 4- the crack that you don't see in this windshield anymore, that insurance completely covered the repair of. Many thanks.
I think I'm losing track of days. I take pictures but then run out of time to post them, or upload them to flickr. For now, this is the best I can do.
"For now, this is the best I can do" - grace in so many ways that i hardly allow myself in my head...
sometimes (often)(or, always) i think "the best we can do" is the most beautiful, maybe not in its presentation or appearance, but in what it symbolizes more than anything. that we showed up. that a seed (in this instance, of thanks) was planted in our soul firmly enough that amidst everything else, we still found the grains of energy to express that gratitude. i for one am glad that you're finding whatever time you have to stay with this, even if it's only when you can; it must mean that you are present to the here-and-now of your life, which is just as important. just today i realized i was one day off numerically in posting, because the first days and the last days are easiest to keep track of. in the middle, i get sort of lost. and that in and of itself is quite symbolic...i love new beginnings and even the bittersweetness of endings, but in the middle of things i tend to get bogged down, lose sight of things. in any case, in these "middle days" of the 30, at times i've found myself scrambling to create a photo or a scene in between work and meetings. inspiration rarely strikes at that point. so i keep pushing myself back to the point of this project in the first place: take stuff from everyday life, even if it's not the most beautiful thing ever, and capture it. notice it. give thanks for it even in the few moments it takes to snap a photo and instagram it (instagram, by the way, has made this whole thing possible for me since i don't have a working personal computer right now...everything gets sent out from my phone's instagram and flickr apps).
ReplyDeleteafter all, life is not made up of stunning moment after unforgettable gorgeous moment. it's made up of these things: feeling the life in a young body in our arms. blades of grass standing up again after we've lain on them. and yes, even the fractures that were once there, that are now impossible to see.
yes, yes on several things- i have always admired actors for their ability to be completely in the moment- to observe everything around them and react to it in a "whole" kind of way. i am so often off in my own world that this ability to be in the moment and react to the moment, is elusive. but this challenge has definitely made me take a pause and see my present reality, and in a good way.
ReplyDeletesecond, also, i have always felt the same about the middle of things, i think it is the un-drama of the drudgery of continuing, on a steady trajectory. I have always said I wanted to be 60 immediately, and not have to live through the "middle ages", but yet here i am at the brink of the "middle ages" and am not sure what to do. except maybe to carry on in the moment and set the future aside, for as long as I can.
and your last paragraph is poetry, pure and simple. thank you for your perspective, in all it's loveliness!