Sunday, May 2: human observation
“That which shatters the silence we call noise. That which enhances the silence we call music.”
I completely overslept. I am usually up at 5am—I aim for 4:30—but today I got out of bed at 7. That’s like noon my time. I’m not sure my day will recover. I sat down with my coffee to write my agenda for the day and quickly ran out of morning. All the things I need to complete before this afternoon will not fit. Do I try to force a pudgy schedule into a skinny morning or do I just grab the mu-mu and go with the flow?
I am heading out for a run in a few minutes (I’m OK with a metaphorical mu-mu but less interested in a literal one) but, other than that, the morning doesn’t have to be anything other than what it is right now: Sunday, just before 8am, 70 degrees and sunny. A perfect backdrop to let things unfold.
Observation is not interpretation. It’s a challenging distinction. We have to notice what we notice before we can take understand what we see (hear, taste, touch, smell) and inact action or inaction.
As much as I love a plan, especially one that starts at 5am, today is a day to observe and respond. To go for a run or a walk or gathering without an agenda and observe, with all our senses, what is happening around and in us. To use all of our humanity to human better than we do when we already know what to do.
