January 24, 2014 Nearing the end of another day as dusk settles velvety purple into the Pacific Ocean. On the other side of the world my husband awakes with the first rays of dawn and the high pitched horns of rickshaws. While only a 12 hour difference on the human clock, it seems like months if we measured time in moments.
If we measured time in moments, how many moments pass us by unnoticed or unexpressed?
I wonder how many moments we lose in an hour as they slip by so unassuming, dressed in camouflage, skirting through the second hand before the minute has a chance to capture their beauty?
Imagine if we measured time, not by the tasks to be completed by a certain hour, but instead by the moments in between, the stuff that makes up life. Would the mundane reveal itself to be something more colorful than its shallow exterior leads us to believe?
I remember the seconds before the #18 rolls up Solano Avenue every morning, my mind already climbing the steps and scanning my card before the bus has even stopped in front of me.
Reeling back in time and living those seconds anew, I catch a glimpse of a butterfly's wings, flapping so quickly that a liquid rainbow fills my peripheral vision.
I notice the kindness in the bus driver's eyes before quickly brushing past him to be on my way. Will his days begin and end just like mine?
I feel the warmth of the sun, its rays bursting through each and every window, casting a light of possibility.
I catch a glimpse of a bundled up baby, pulled in close to her mother's heart...and a sea of vibrantly colored flowers waving in the crisp breeze
I count my breaths second by second as I climb each step to the office on Shattuck Street...and feel the beating of my heart... And realize for that elusive second what a miracle it really is.
Only 30 minutes on a clock... But 1800 seconds in moments of our lives.
If we measured time in moments, how many moments pass us by unnoticed or unexpressed?
I wonder how many moments we lose in an hour as they slip by so unassuming, dressed in camouflage, skirting through the second hand before the minute has a chance to capture their beauty?
Imagine if we measured time, not by the tasks to be completed by a certain hour, but instead by the moments in between, the stuff that makes up life. Would the mundane reveal itself to be something more colorful than its shallow exterior leads us to believe?
I remember the seconds before the #18 rolls up Solano Avenue every morning, my mind already climbing the steps and scanning my card before the bus has even stopped in front of me.
Reeling back in time and living those seconds anew, I catch a glimpse of a butterfly's wings, flapping so quickly that a liquid rainbow fills my peripheral vision.
I notice the kindness in the bus driver's eyes before quickly brushing past him to be on my way. Will his days begin and end just like mine?
I feel the warmth of the sun, its rays bursting through each and every window, casting a light of possibility.
I catch a glimpse of a bundled up baby, pulled in close to her mother's heart...and a sea of vibrantly colored flowers waving in the crisp breeze
I count my breaths second by second as I climb each step to the office on Shattuck Street...and feel the beating of my heart... And realize for that elusive second what a miracle it really is.
Only 30 minutes on a clock... But 1800 seconds in moments of our lives.
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