The habit of ignoring our present moments in favor of others yet to come leads directly to a pervasive lack of awareness of the web of life in which we are embedded.Jon Kabat-Zinn, Wherever You Go, There You Are
For the past month I've adopted a new practice of writing down at least one unique moment in every day. I already keep track of my appointments in my calendar, and my accomplishments in my journal. And I record phenological events, year after year, by noting events, like the linden trees that are just beginning to blossom, in a Book of Days.
But I was looking for something different to record in my the weekly planner, Leaves from the Tree of Time, that I created for 2010 and so I decided to start recording unique moments, those moments in each day, never before experienced and not likely to be experienced again.
I'm enjoying the fruits of this practice. It helps me notice what is going on around me in an entirely different way. I know poets who write a haiku every day and photographers who take a photo every day (I love Doug Plummer's daily photos). And I also benefit as a writer from the time spent choosing just the right few words to capture these images as if they were snapshots.
Here are some of my favorites:
April 6: A guy walks into Online Coffee and announces that Jesus blesses all of us
April 7: Pepe (the Chihuahua) licks a cherry blossom fallen in the parkway
May 1: I startle a crow, so close I can feel the wind from his feathers
May 2: A bald guy reading by flashlight behind three umbrellas in the doorway of the shoe shop
My recent trip to the beach was full of unique moments. Here are a few:
May 8: A black swan flies over my car on the Astoria Bridge, going south
May 8: Steam rising from the asphalt, sunshine on rain-soaked pavement, Route 26 between Astoria and Portland
May 8: After the rain shower, a coyote in the bushes shakes water off its fur like a dog, Route 26 between Portland and Astoria
May 8: Crossing the Astoria bridge north, it looks like I am driving into the sky
May 9: Floating on my back in the swimming pool, overhead white clouds float by in a blue sky, four birds fly by, high as the clouds and going the same direction
The photograph is one I took in the pool at the place where I was staying on Long Beach. I have been taking a class on photography called Eyes of the Heart with Christine Valters Paintner of Abbey of the Arts and it is changing the way I see things, a topic for another day.
2 comments:
While driving just after the Great Snow of February 2010, I was slowing down to let a pedestrian cross the street. He was perhaps in his 40s or 50s. Grinning, he raced across the street and plunged with all his might feet-first into a huge snow bank.
I love the idea of keeping track of all of these. Thanks for the inspiration.
Wonderful idea, to note and celebrate the unique events that intersect our daily paths. Thanks for sharing, and I will endeavor to do the same!
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