"It helps me remember, I need to remember. . ."

Balancing on one leg, my right foot comes to meet the inside of my left inner thigh, finding comfort and stability there.  From heart center, my hands grow together, pressing into each other.  I sway softly, my arms like the branches of a tree reaching high up to the sky to soak up every ray of sunlight while it remains.


My gaze settles forward, on a bench in front of the old brick elementary school that this park belongs to.  And even on this sunny Saturday afternoon when the park is crowded with little kids running all over the place, competitive wall ball players, and families picnicing on the grass, I find a stillness there and settle into it, letting the noise and chaos, laughing and screaming fall to the wind that sweeps up and around me.  And when the wind drifts away, it takes with it a mass of white cherry blossom petals, swirling them up and down and around in the open space ahead of me.  With the wind as their conductor, petals upon petals twirl and flirt with one another, together performing an intimate dance only for those eyes lucky enough to witness.


And as I release my foot down to the grass, I relish in the beauty of that scene on the stage of this loud and crowded park in the city.  I can't help but think about the plastic bag scene from American Beauty.  Those of you who have seen it know exactly what I'm talking about, and for those of you that haven't, I suggest a) immediately placing the movie at the top of your must-see list, and b) watching the following clip to see what I mean.





Sometimes it is the stumbled upon, otherwise ordinary scenes in your day that add an entirely new and breathless beauty to the world.  The most insignificant thing suddenly comes forth bursting with life and possibility and beauty and everything else around you feels more alive under the same spell.  And after your moment of awe and wonder, you're left with a heavy heart, even a sense of loss, as if mourning the beauty of the moment that has passed.  Or perhaps knowing that so many moments like this take place in our everyday lives, but we're too busy or too focused on what we think we need that we don't let ourselves see them.  


People like to say that beauty is fleeting, which, I suppose in certain circumstances, it is.  But what if we just can't handle all that beauty or the possibility of it?  What if it's so consuming and so powerful that we can't help but protect ourselves from it?  Maybe just knowing that such beauty exists in the world, in our friends, family, and in ourselves is enough.  Learning how to honor it, however, that's the tricky part.  


For me, it may be doing sun salutations in the park or walking around with a curious eye and my camera.  For you, it could be anything.  But finding, witnessing, and realizing that beauty, the life and enormity of it, is what matters—at least in my opinion.  And hopefully the world will jump in and surprise us in the most unexpected ways.  Just take a look at that plastic bag.  Beautiful, isn't it?