The opus of my life is made of myriad movements, large and small, stretching forwards and backwards in time beyond any perceptible horizon. Most of the events that are remarkable in my heart I won't recognize until afterwards, looking backwards and seeing it all again for the first time. Some movements that ring particularly beautiful for me:
- getting a final sign off for occupancy on the house I built at Magic over four years
- a Valentines Day/welcome to Thai farmer's party in Berkeley in 2006, with an indescribably vegan chocolate cake (go Cara, kick your heels up :-)
- a canoe trip with an old friend in the Ontario wilderness
- running in the foothills of the Alps on a family vacation near the French Riviera
- watching the lives of the twin girls at Magic unfold
- my 29th birthday and subsequent New Year's activities - swimming in the ocean on New Year's Day
- running in the snow on a quiet, swirling snowy night in the Quebec countryside with a wonderful friend
Sometimes it's hard to see how they weave together, and indeed I wonder if I ever will. I can feel the patterns more than I can see them, I can taste them and smell them but can't spell them out. I feel like it's less of a direction in life than an expression of an underlying order that is bigger than my mortal mind can comprehend. I'm a cowboy taking a drink from the banks of the Snake River, knowing what water is like but seeing that the river is so much more.
What are your moments? Where are your signposts from the past? What might lie in your future?
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