Musings
I got off the train in a small town in England where some of my relatives live.
They were picking me up to have tea, and in turn, show me boxes of old photographs of my extended family.
As we walked to the car, I paused. Something felt so different. I realized quickly it was the birds. The singing of the birds sounded so different from the birds in Denver, CO.
How often do we wander through our lives without sensing or noticing the world around us?
Sipping coffee without truly tasting it
Listening to music while doing other things
Riding a bike without noticing the bliss of wind on our skin
Something I think of often is that we never know when the last time we experience something will be the last time.
The last time we talk to a loved one.
The last time we patron a restaurant we love before it closes.
The last time we visit a particular town.
The last time we see the colors of that particular sunrise (because once that morning is over, there will never be another one just like it).
I recently went to the MET in New York for the first time (maybe the last?) - and I was awestruck. The history, the majesty - it was a stunning place. I wandered into the American Art section which had entire rooms decorated as they would have looked in the past. It was like stepping into the world as it used to be.
I watched as a woman walked up to the room beside me, pointed her phone, snapped a picture, and walked away. She quickly walked to the next room, and I watched her snap more photos of various artworks and move to the next. Her partner tailed closely behind, taking photos of anything she missed.
They weren’t experiencing, they were documenting. Even if they went home and intensely scrutinized each photo they took (which likely didn’t happen), they might never be in that space with that artwork ever again. They took a scrap of it with them in a digital form, but didn’t enjoy the moment when they were right there, in it.
I walk around and see so many people with their necks craned down, staring at their phones. The nuance of life passing right by them, without even a whiff of concern. Why pull our heads up and look around when there’s so much to take in from our phones?
Maybe I want to decide what I take in (and when) without the algorithm telling me what I should pay attention to. Maybe I want to savor each moment as though it’s the last time I’m ever going to experience it. I want to taste each sip of coffee as though the coffee trade has become obsolete and a cup of coffee is a treasured experience.
Maybe I’m just musing about all of that right now.
