I am a drying river,
I am a flooding desert,
I’m a shadow in the dark.
I am a castle of sand,
I am a house of cards,
Vulnerable to the slightest touch.
Life, at times, chokes one with its wonders, particularly gigantic wonders – tallest tower, highest summit, smartest phone, etc. There is a lot to take in and appreciate that we often lose the pleasure we once derived from a stranger’s smile or the lost dime we noticed by the traffic light as we waited patiently to cross the street. Inattentional blindness – it is not our choice anymore – to turn our eyes away from little things that have once given us pure joy – it is rather that our eyes, even when confronted by the most innocent and noteworthy of gestures and actions, cannot perceive them.
I set out to try to be fully attentive to little things around me: from words, pictures and things that required a 180 degree head turn or two feet bend-down, to situations that involved awkwardly taking photos of seemingly trivial objects in public. It was rather interesting, beautifully significant, and effortlessly thought-provoking all of that which managed to present itself to my consciousness.
1. Honest, beautiful, but repetitive remarks:
2. Societal consolations:
3. At the mall:
4. At the counter:
Maybe waiting at the payment counter gives you the chance to think about the meaning of life.
I don’t know about you, but thinking back to the events and people I encountered, and randomly checking the photos I took on my phone, instagraming them to give them that extra glow to shape a pleasant memory, is pleasurable. Writing this post is also pleasurable – a good exercise and an effort to understand the workings of my mind and the workings of the world. Even my typing in long, fragmented sentences involves the intention of making you think “she’s complicated.”
The headlines in the news, the fancy cars, and skyscrapers never cease to amaze me, but they have equally mastered the art of distracting me from the here and now – from the little things that truly give meaning to life, from the little observations that provoke thinking about the complexity of our world, our society, our failures, our successes, and our short-comings.
Boredom is an illusion – you cannot be bored. There are just so many things around waiting to be noticed and waiting to impact you in some way. Just over seventeen years on Earth, and it is only now that I made such realizations. Some are over 70, and still fail to integrate meaning into life.
It’s simple: look around, and pay attention.
The very nature of life is flux. To resist change is to resist the very essence of our existence.
Brain: Hey B! Wanna do something fun?
Me: What do you have in mind? <— get the joke?!
Brain: Oh you’ll be surprised..
An idea kicked in. I gathered some junk by the corner of my room: ink, paper, lamps, sticky tape, syringe, a glass of water, and my camera. For a moment I felt like a pro! Oh well, something to feed my ego.
I filled the syringe with some black ink, and squeezed a tiny drop out of it into the water. Et voilà!
This was far from a simple process. It involved going back and forth to the bathroom for re-fill. The water would get messy and dirty pretty quickly, and so the photos I took were a few seconds after pouring one ink drop. I would take around 6 photos for every drop, and watch how it changes shape as it mixes with the water. Pretty cool.
I was stunned by the whole process.
As I viewed the photographs, each one held a random, unique shape of ink. At first, it looked like a small cockroach that quickly developed into a little spider – you’re free to believe that, or not.. it could be my imagination. But, and I have a proof for this, one actually looked like an armchair, and another looked like a couch.
“All human plans are subject to ruthless revision by Nature, or Fate, or whatever one preferred to call the powers behind the Universe.”
― Arthur C. Clarke
Note: This involved much cleaning afterwards. I am still not sure what I decided to do this experiment, but I guess it felt good and creative and weird. I like that.