Do Not Miss Life
Not to prove a point or anything…
One pretty evening in Denver, I was walking through Civic Center Park, the little bit, between Broadway and Lincoln, when I came upon a rather beautiful sight. Two leaf bare trees of the winter had framed the moon in full, almost center in the sky before me. I stopped like I had been struck by lightning, which in a way, I had been. The sky was a gorgeous deep dark purple, the moon full and white and blue, the stars invisible, but a few were twinkling. A small whisper of grey cloud stole an audience in front of the moon, whisking by on some speedy errand. My friend walked before me, never looking up, and I had to call to her to come back and take a look. She thanked me afterwards, and said I always did this, always pointed out beauty in our midst.
I find I am often doing this, I think it is what makes me think I might be a decent writer. I love this world, I love living here, and now that I am in love with an amazing woman, I find I am doing it more and more. I step out from behind my register on slower days, to see the lovely colors of a high altitude sunset. There is almost always a beautiful flood of pink, red, and orange. I learned about looking for the shadow of earth in the approaching night, and now, I can show others the glorious shadow of our home, as it stretches across the vast and darkening of the night sky. I watch for Venus in the setting of the sun as well, and always look for Orion the Hunter in the night, being one of the brightest formations we can see in the over lit city.
As I walk, I can see the destruction of the gray sidewalks and concrete, I can see the stained and weather worn red bricks of buildings, I spy small plants growing in vast concentrations of black asphalt. I find over grown yards let out to renters, that still have beautiful roses splayed about in tall weeds. I have found grape plants that you can eat from, and crab apples that are untouched by pesticides, just because I know that although the yard is unkempt, it also means they are not spraying the trees with anything. For the few who know, crazy hallucinogenic drugs line the streets in the form of jimson weed, but it is the flowers that I love best, giant white flowers that look like huge trumpets of angels and demigods.
I am not including the obvious, anyone can appreciate a formal garden. I love gardens, but those are obvious. I remember hearing once when I was very young, look into the negative space, or what we humans like to call “negative space.” I know that one thing for sure, there is no such thing, there is only quantum space, boiling and bubbling with energy that is never seen, but could possibly have sparked the beginning of our universe. There is so much to see, everywhere you look, and I am glad my eyesight is poor because I can only imagine I would waste away in repose if I could see everything all the time. One of the most beautiful things in the world to me is unseen by any, an image me and a long-lost friend call the tired flower. If you get tired, say on a long walk or trek, you know you are not paying a lot of attention to anything, but next time you are in such a situation, take a moment and stare at the empty sky. It works best on a clear day, preferably around twilight, but do not look at the sun, look at the empty sky, and you can see a pulsating round object, or at least me and a few friends I have spoken about it with have seen it. I believe it may have something to do with blood, rods, cones and the built-in blind spot we all have, but I think it is radiant and grand.
Riding my bike I am always surprised by the glint of plain, very plain when you stop and find that glint, boring old rocks. I like making circles around things I like looking at, like statues or fountains, because it is like having a director make a good little movie just for you, for those moments by yourself, that you can sometimes, if you are smart, share with others. The coolness of sweat is fun when you are on a bike, and becomes like a waterfall when you stop (be sure and hydrate in our warm summers this year!) I can feel the wind on my entire body, and I can hear everything around me, not enclosed like a car, with music blasting my eardrums.
I never carry an ipod or music device, I want to know what the life is around me. I don’t judge it, although I tend not to look into the eyes of people muttering and cursing and obviously mad. But they are part of it to, the mad and lovely world we have created in our cities, with its bits and pieces of nature, with its symbolism and abstracts, its lines and angles, its curves and softened, destroyed, and fraying sides, there is beauty everywhere I look. I would take photos, but I do not think anyone would appreciate my sense of beauty. I like straight lines and abrupt endings, but it doesn’t matter what I like, what matters most is to slow down, stop staring straight ahead. I can find beauty in an empty parking lot, an abandoned warehouse, a dirt yard. Beauty is where you find it, and I find I live in a beautiful world. Do not let the beauty of life itself, the change and chaos that is all we really have, do not let run by you, for it is not the beauty that is running, it is you.