We had snuck into a little spot at the edge of the balcony between a massive trumpet vine and the stone railing. It wasn’t quite like being against the barrier at a Rage Against the Machine show, but maneuverability was limited.
The effect was that the sunset was all we had. Even with all these people and their conversations around, we had this small space that directed all our attention at the horizon. We stretched our hands out and could feel the air cool, the wind rise, the light all around us change, and the sounds soften. My sons experienced the end of a day like they had never done before.
The next morning, my mind went to a TEDx talk on Paper Letter Exchange. How much has modernity removed us from fundamental experience? Not long ago, sunset would have been a critical moment of each day. Now we have to use Google to find out when it will happen. How much does the body and brain crave that moment when the sun disappears? How much is it needed for rejuvenation, relaxation, or to take time to start cataloging the day?
There’s more importance in “mindfulness” than I had thought before this journey. For me, prayer and meditation aren’t enough. I’ve got to record whatever is there after I clear my mind.
I struggled with taking pictures after Mary’s passing and I hadn’t taken many before I started caring for my sons. Mary enjoyed sharing our adventures and there were a lot of moments I only snapped for her. Until that day, I couldn’t come up with a good reason to maintain the record keeping. It’s another intangible, but it helps. If it can help me, I pray that I can use it to help others.
God bless and Merry Christmas,
Jason