"I have always been delighted at the prospect of a new day, a fresh try, one more start, with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the magic." - J.B. Priestly
What is life but a series of moments, a hundred, thousand, million instants strung together and pulled taut, a measure of our experience, and a record of our existence. When we're drowning in the minutiae of our days, and we scramble to stay afloat, it is the small unexpected moments of joy that rescue us from ourselves. A pause, the space between, the beat between breaths - these are the sublime contractions of our lives when possibility becomes promise, and silence transforms us. More often than not we find ourselves adrift, small and insignificant in a vast and unforgiving sea, thrown about by a tempestuous surf that would as soon drown us than save us. But in the spaces in between are pockets of bliss, a glimmer of things within our grasp, when everything comes together in perfect alignment and all is right in your world. Maybe they're so unexpected because we're only keenly aware of things that go awry. And we take for granted life's pleasures, dismissing them if we bothered to notice them at all. And just as quickly they're gone in a wink of an eye, nothing left to savor but the aftertaste of could've beens, for, it is only in the aftermath that you notice the absence. If only we could stretch it out, or bead together the luminous moments that shine brighter than any rope of pearls. They illuminate our path, and offer a flash of lucidity, a short respite from the darkness that veils us from truth. They are the moments of substance and import, the reflections of our mind that prod and prompt us to live each moment as if it's our last. Not quite memories, but mental impressions that leave tiny indentations on our soul. If only we could file them away in our mind for when we need them most. Shuffling and sorting through our mental library, and finding the one that exquisitely captures the moment.
Wayne Levin Photography