The view from my window made the decision of whether or not to go to work today pretty simple.
But before the snow started getting really heavy, I was anticipating it. Funny stuff happens when a person stands by their windows (at the ready) waiting for something you know is coming.
I kept looking out of my apartment windows in hushed silence until I realized that it had already begun! The snowfall was just a fine dust that could only be seen when gazing in the golden hue of a streetlight…a subtle, slow, slanted fall. It made me think of how tricky our eyes are, how they betray us, obscuring our views of what is occurring all around us. It made me stop to think about how easily our perceptions change as our focus shift to reveal truths that we hardly knew were working on us.
I am acutely aware of just how unaware I truly am. All of the people that putter around in the background of my life: how many am I affecting without even knowing? How many are being inspired, moved, motivated by their connection with me…real or imagined?
Yesterday, someone informed me that I had given them some sound advice, awhile ago, that profoundly changed their life. It made me feel nice and validated. But then my eyes blurred and my brain started to cloud over like an impending snowstorm. I tried with all of my might to recall what I had said; what great advice had I given? I don’t even know why I felt the need to define it or justify it just then, but the guilt at not being able to remember made me feel badly. Is it disingenuous of me? Am I really that vacuous that I could change the course of someone’s life-choices so mindlessly? Have I been so far removed from these moments shared that if you were to interrogate me, I would feign know where to begin?
My sister was talking to me the other day about “living in the moment” which irked me at the time because she’s been so existential as to cause overall annoyance. But, as what always happens, I now see her point. There are moments-whole chunks of my life–that I have obliterated from memory (whether by choice or happenstance). But now, as I grow older, I’m acutely aware that I don’t want to miss ANYTHING–not even the “bad” times (which are never truly bad when you think about it). I mean, I watched someone die and was there for all of the great moments (which were never truly “great” either) too. I want all of it.
That’s the stuff I get to take away with me when it’s my turn. That way I won’t be left in an empty place wondering-wait, when did that happen? ‘Cause I’d already know.