This Moment

This Is Your Life

“...Now you sit on the brick wall in the cloudy afternoon and swing your legs,

happy because there never has been a word for this,

as you continue moving through these days and years

where more and more the message is

not to measure anything.”

Tony Hoagland (from “Into the Mystery;” The Sun, August, 2017, p,46)

My cousin, Sandy, sent me a video of a TED talk by Louie Schwartzberg, founder of Blacklight Films. Schwartzberg is a time-lapse photographer who takes pictures of flowers opening, clouds moving, and other slow-motion unfurling of nature. The film he shows during his TED talk is about how to fall in love with your life again, and it is so beautiful, it made me cry. (You can find it on YouTube) It's all about the preciousness of each moment, and being aware enough to see the details of what is all around you. It is so easy these days to get stomped down by the political upheavals and global maneuvering for power. You begin to think that the whole world is a dark, dreary place and all hope is gone. But, you will see the juicy moments if you are awake to life.

Right now, on this muggy morning in Birmingham, AL, an old woman who lives down the street is having her morning walk. She is 94 years old. Her walk is shorter now than just a few months ago, and a bit more ragged, but still she gives it her best shot. The old woman doesn't know me as a person, only as someone who lives in this house, to whom she speaks pleasantries when we intersect at the curb. I saw her in the Piggly Wiggly yesterday, her son pushing the cart while she shopped, and she didn't recognize me out of context. Nevertheless, she is an inspiration for me; she proves the indomitable spirit of “old-womanhood” is alive and well. I notice the new hitch in her step with some sadness.

The baby brown thrashers have fledged. The homeless-black-cat-that-lives-on-my-front-porch got one of them while it was learning to fly. I wrapped its broken body in paper towels and buried it. One of the “Flying Wallendas” of the squirrel world is busy this morning leaping through the air from the bloom end of one of my crepe myrtles to the branch of an oak tree three feet away. I actually saw one fall out of the tree yesterday. It landed with a thud on my driveway, then hopped up and scampered away. Their bones must be rubber. Everything is quieter now; poised, waiting for the heat to steam us into a semi-coma by afternoon.

I hope you find some time today to sit and watch life unfold. “There's never been a word for this.” But you know that this is it, this moment, this day, newly hatched and precious. This is your life—don't miss it.

                                                            In the Spirit,

                                                                 Jane