doodle
New member
“Moments”
I was speeding to work this morning, late as usual, mumbling to myself while the news radio was screaming the world’s troubles through my truck’s speakers. As I trudged onward into the usual melancholy gloominess that surrounds all of our typical work weeks, I noticed an oddity off to the side of the highway. Not terribly odd, for it was just an old Angus cow, but something about her was different. At nearly 70 miles per hour it took my eyes a millisecond to focus, and much longer for my mind to translate the chemical signals stimulating the neurons in my brain. She was calving! The miracle of life was being set in motion right here in front of me. At the same time this realization hit me, in nearly an unconscious action, I checked my mirrors turned on the blinkers and stopped right there on the side of the lonely highway. Now as I mentioned I was already a healthy 15 minutes behind, and this is by far not the first calf I have seen born, nor was it an unusual birth in any way, but right then and there it did not seem to matter. It was one of those magic moments that never fail to create a healthy euphoria in a person’s heart. I stood there in shin deep springtime ditch grass, and started to notice other things that fall into this category as well. Things like the beauty in an early morning sunrise, the way birds love to start their day with a song, or the cool crisp stickiness of morning dew that adheres to everything lucky enough to be in its company.
As I got back into my truck these images branded themselves to my psyche. I pondered how I could drive past this splendor every day and fail to appreciate it. Then I realized that we become so focused on the proverbial brass ring that everything in our peripheral becomes a mundane blur, so much so that we cannot see the magnificent detailed carvings in life’s carousel we ride around and around every day. This forced me to reach up and turn off the radio. Then roll down my windows and breathe in some fresh morning air. I read my speedometer and it said 51. I forgot my truck could go that slow on pavement. I passed the same little farm pond I drive past daily and saw a muskrat frolicking on the water’s edge; not just swimming around like one usually sees them, but enjoying life possibly as much as I was at that exact moment. How many times have I missed this? While I sit here typing, my only answer is too many.
There are other “moments” that happen every day, and I hope that on occasion we can slow down just enough to savor them. I suppose the irony in the whole story is that when I finally did make it to work slightly more than 15 minutes behind there were no dire catastrophes that I could not handle. In fact that proverbial brass ring seemed to be clearer and more in focus than it had been in quite some time. It had an achievable glow to it. Could it have possibly been a reflection from the last remaining influences of this morning’s sunrise? I like to think so.
I was speeding to work this morning, late as usual, mumbling to myself while the news radio was screaming the world’s troubles through my truck’s speakers. As I trudged onward into the usual melancholy gloominess that surrounds all of our typical work weeks, I noticed an oddity off to the side of the highway. Not terribly odd, for it was just an old Angus cow, but something about her was different. At nearly 70 miles per hour it took my eyes a millisecond to focus, and much longer for my mind to translate the chemical signals stimulating the neurons in my brain. She was calving! The miracle of life was being set in motion right here in front of me. At the same time this realization hit me, in nearly an unconscious action, I checked my mirrors turned on the blinkers and stopped right there on the side of the lonely highway. Now as I mentioned I was already a healthy 15 minutes behind, and this is by far not the first calf I have seen born, nor was it an unusual birth in any way, but right then and there it did not seem to matter. It was one of those magic moments that never fail to create a healthy euphoria in a person’s heart. I stood there in shin deep springtime ditch grass, and started to notice other things that fall into this category as well. Things like the beauty in an early morning sunrise, the way birds love to start their day with a song, or the cool crisp stickiness of morning dew that adheres to everything lucky enough to be in its company.
As I got back into my truck these images branded themselves to my psyche. I pondered how I could drive past this splendor every day and fail to appreciate it. Then I realized that we become so focused on the proverbial brass ring that everything in our peripheral becomes a mundane blur, so much so that we cannot see the magnificent detailed carvings in life’s carousel we ride around and around every day. This forced me to reach up and turn off the radio. Then roll down my windows and breathe in some fresh morning air. I read my speedometer and it said 51. I forgot my truck could go that slow on pavement. I passed the same little farm pond I drive past daily and saw a muskrat frolicking on the water’s edge; not just swimming around like one usually sees them, but enjoying life possibly as much as I was at that exact moment. How many times have I missed this? While I sit here typing, my only answer is too many.
There are other “moments” that happen every day, and I hope that on occasion we can slow down just enough to savor them. I suppose the irony in the whole story is that when I finally did make it to work slightly more than 15 minutes behind there were no dire catastrophes that I could not handle. In fact that proverbial brass ring seemed to be clearer and more in focus than it had been in quite some time. It had an achievable glow to it. Could it have possibly been a reflection from the last remaining influences of this morning’s sunrise? I like to think so.
