Memories out of Our Days

What I like most about traveling is that it reminds me just how little I know about the world. You can read about something in a book, but experiencing it in the flesh adds a whole new color and dimension.  One that makes you feel both in sync and out of place, lost and found. It’s easy to pretend we have all the answers, but in truth, all we have are a lot of questions. It doesn’t matter if those questions ever get answered or not. It only matters that we keep asking them.

When faced with the infinitude of the cosmos, it’s important to take a moment and pause and appreciate what’s going on around you. To make poetry out of simple things. To discover a song in the daily noise. To find wholeness in broken pieces. To take currency in everything easily overlooked and misplaced that has the potential to make memories out of our days.

There’s a story there. A lesson there. Some tiny insignificant insight that sheds a little more light on the world and opens our eyes to the beauty that sleeps in garbage cans, wades through puddles of muck, and shifts through the unceasing seas of time like frolicking dolphins whose only pleasure is to swim and let the world pay witness.

Something so beautiful that even though it’s not yet fully realized—only on the cusp of revealing itself—it’s something you still feel even after the feeling has gone. And once you have it, it’s yours for the moment, for eternity, to be held, to be appreciated, but most importantly, to be shared. For nothing is truly in our possession though we like to trick ourselves into thinking so. A sunrise. A sunset. A rainbow. A song. A story. A piece of art. A city street. Home. Love. Life. All fleeting things that paradoxically belong to no one and everyone.