Thursday, February 24, 2005

Beauty in the Miniscule

Walks have always been a wonderful thing for me, something I wish I could do a little more often. They have a calming effect, a way of soothing one's heart and mind after a stressful exposure to Marian faculty. Perhaps it's all the fresh air, or maybe the silence intermittently broken by a whispering breeze. Regardless, these escapes always leave me feeling stronger than before. I don't always understand why I take these walks. I often set off wondering why I pull away from my entropic social life for a mere 20 minutes or so in a state of solitary contemplation. But in the end, as I approach my house, I always know exactly why I left. And today, that realization was confirmed.

I've never been one to notice the 'little details,' never been one to stop and absorb something. I'm always rushing from one task to another, from one hobby to another, or from one emotion to another. Time has always escaped me, as I never seem to make the day stretch long enough for my personal needs. 'Always in a hurry, never one to worry' was my personal philosophy. But today, I learned just how sweet the roses smell when you take the time to notice.

This afternoon's walk was not one of particular beauty; the sky was muddled by the greyish cumulus lumps, the sun had all but disappeared, and the air was chilly and prickling. It was one of those days that make you reminisce of the warmth of a summer morn, wishing the months would pass more quickly. Soggy remnants of a winter passed remained inanimately dozing along the road, creating puddles and mud at every corner. Actually, now that I think about it, it was a fairly depressing atmosphere. Yet it was of no importance where this afternoon's events are concerned.

I remember strolling carelessly along, my eyes focused on some intangible point in the distance. I was unaware of the objects I was passing, though I was quite cognizant of where I was. It was as though I were reading a book I had already memorized; Each line I could recall, but somehow, the flavor that had originally accompanied each word had vanished into the chasm of my memory. The leaves and squirrels and mailboxes and puddles; they were of no consequence to me. I strolled with no real destination, no real point which I was hoping to reach. It was merely the state of being that I enjoyed, rather than what I was surrounded by in such a state.

And vaguely, I recall recognizing the mural painted in my mind, the scene that my eyes were presently taking in. And momentarily, I stopped, bewildered. In my mind's eye, it was a two dimensional, flat canvas, covered in colors and shapes of all sorts. The trees and houses and animals and flowers, they were no longer movable objects, but rather freeze-frame shapes within one immense work of art. And as I stood, dazed within my own conscious thought, I began to take notice. I noticed the trees, and the way they dance amongst themselves, twirling and tossing in a bed of air. I noticed the grass, and how it's waves and ripples resemble those amdist an ocean. I wondered whether men who live at sea ever miss the grass., or miss the trees. I could imagine a sailor beckoning in his sleep for one more dance from his favorite oak.

All this and more began rushing through my head, and each piece of the mural seemed to jump alive before my eyes. Each rock, each cloud, each bird sitting idly on a branch; it all became a vibrant dance of glory and life. How could I have missed these things before? How could I have been so blind? I was astonished at how much different the world seemed, how much my perspective had changed in that instant. It was as if I had lived in a black and white world all my lfie, and was now being introduced to technicolor.

And so I continued walking, this time taking twice as long as usual. My focus had left its usual point on the horizon, rather, I was now busy absorbing the world with wide eyes. I began to ponder to myself all the things I've been missing in this mural of the world. Why, no wonder I always felt so rushed for time, no wonder I was always in a hurry! When looking so intently at the big picture, time seems like such a limited thing, such a constricting frame. Yet now I realized that life is made of moments, moments that we can create or deter. Moments that we should cherish, and never hesitate to savor.


At February 27, 2005 7:03 PM, Blogger Tanner said...

i love your template

At February 27, 2005 9:55 PM, Blogger Erin said...

Thanks! I made it from scratch- took me 2 and a half hours to write the template and make the background! :) I love yours too!

At March 07, 2005 8:06 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Slow down my friend, slow down.


At March 07, 2005 10:41 PM, Blogger Erin said...

*wonders who posted above comment*

I assure you, I am trying. It's spring fever, I do hope. Sorry!

At March 08, 2005 6:49 PM, Blogger Erin said...

jerk! ;)


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