I was obliged to go into town. This is never a good thing and I had put it off as long as I could, but my son had errands for me and it could not be delayed any longer. Reluctantly, I braved the concrete and traffic, thankful that in spite of busy roads, they are only comparatively busy, even on a market day.
The market was, at least, some small consolation. You never know what you will find, even in a small town. The stall selling hot food caught my eye, and only my ever-expanding waistline stopped me from trying the goat stew. The summer clothes were a bit on the early side, given the chill in the air, but just around the corner, I spotted a new shop. Which just goes to show how often I go into town. Apparently, it has been there for a couple of years now…
But, I liked the name. Any shop called ‘Holy Cow‘ had to be worth a look, especially when I am still prop-hunting for the workshop and their window was full of wonderful things. As I paid for my purchase, in a space filled with Indian fabrics and colours, and redolent of incense, I got chatting with Poonam Gupta, the owner of the shop. Talking about the workshop, I let my enthusiasm bubble over.
The inevitable pre-workshop stress was gone as I explained to the three ladies present what we do, how we do it and why. The eloquence of excitement got the better of me, and the four of us were smiling when I left… though I have to wonder what they thought of the odd woman in scruffy pond-cleaning clothes who wove tales of ancient Sumer…
Walking back to the car, I thought back over the previous workshops, marvelling at what we had managed to do and all the wonderful moments that stand out in memory. Later, working on the computer, I scrolled through the photos in the blog’s media library.
There are over twenty two thousand images stored in there. Most of them were taken since the Silent Eye came into being and, directly or indirectly, many of them were taken on ‘school business’. And, for every photo that makes it to the blog, there are a dozen or more that are stored in my own photo files…
I couldn’t resist wandering through them, marvelling at the places we have found, the things we have seen, the people we have shared them with and the wonderment we have experienced at the sacred sites and in the wild places.
It is not that you forget… I have an excellent memory for places… but you cannot keep all of your days on the surface of the mind all the time. Details sink down a level or two, until something reminds you and they resurface.
Most of the time, you recall just that one place, person or moment… and yet, no day passes without something amazing touching your life, even if it is only the first flower on a rose bush, a sunset or the dawn song of a bird.
Today, in the grey of a colourless afternoon, I was reminded of all the marvellous things I have seen and lived. I was lost for words, unable to believe that I have seen, known and done all the fabulous things held in my memory.
I have lived a fairly ordinary life on the surface, but it has been truly extraordinary so far… and I see no reason why it should not continue to be so, when every day holds marvels and beauty just waiting to be noticed.
Today I took stock of my memory and realised just how grateful I am for the extraordinary circumstances that allow us, each of us, to experience life on this planet, each in our own way.
I realised how privileged we are to exist at all, given the odds against it, and how incredible life can be when we open ourselves to the experience.
I realised how lucky I am to share the journey with the people who walk beside me…
…and how lucky I am, in spite of all the everyday problems, worries and stressors that affect every one of us, to be right here, right now, with the possibility of wonder in every breath I take.