If I stopped chasing social media rabbit trails and screen-beautiful dreams, I would be aware of tiny aspects, grace-webs built by fall spiders, silk shining in dusk light. Birds singing in golden pancake leaves, flipping back and forth in the wind over my head, pure gold. I would stop and sniff my son’s head, not just for a second, but for years, until he muscled through his T-shirt at fourteen and said, “Mom, this is getting old.”
Awareness comes with copious amounts of time and halting what I think is best (which usually involves getting to the next best thing.) I’m keenly cognizant of the suburban scurry around me: soccer, clubs, and cub scout meetings, and every good thing. But most nights, when I remember to sneak out under the stars and breathe in sky, night, and love, I am reminded, THIS is being alive.
This post is Day 13 of the 31 Days of Five Minute Free Writes 2016 writing challenge.