The familiar, precisely because it is familiar, remains unknown.*
Do we measure or weigh our lives by what we have been able to see or by what we have missed?
Hugh Macleod writes about the adventure life is:
‘If you’re lucky, eventually you get to the point when your realise that, while you were here you had an amazing time of things. What a trip! What an amazing adventure!
We may not be immortal, and we may not ever be free of suffering. But we still have tons to be thankful for, thankful for existence itself.’**
What a shame to miss what is right under our noses.
I happened to hear some video game reviewers talking about the amazing reality in the soon-to-be-launched Red Dead Redemption II. They were wowed about the detail to be experienced in the ordinary mundane things of life which are included in this game. But this morning, I’d stepped outside to greet the day and, with the Winter approaching, noticed the cold seep through my clothes and bite at my skin. And in the noticing, I was thankful.
Wallace Stevens writes of the poet:
‘His role, in short, is to help people to live their lives.’^
When we notice something and bring the attention others to it in some way – and the wonderful thing is, all notice something different – then we are acting like Stevens’ poet, helping people to be present to the one amazing life we have, rather than absent.