We move, often, through this world,
woefully unaware
that we are passing it by.
Take a seat
No work today?
My team sent me home, not well. I’ll stay over here and keep my mask on
He is a craftsman, honing his work and art for years.
He cradles my broken screen and gently removes the backing case. Nimbly inserts the fine tool and cleans the speaker and charging port.
100% present and invested in his task. A model for all of us.
be present
he says to me
be well.
Why do we get distracted
And what do we miss
Life? Passing by?
This thought enters,
so, I slow myself down.
Where normally I’d be scrolling the latest hockey news
Tut tut, can’t scroll mindlessly on your phone if he’s fixing your phone
Checkmate, o mindless one.
So,
instead,
I listen
to the animated conversation from the men next door. Do my best to parse the flow of their words,
once jumbled, now pull themselves apart. I can track sounds and tones, but clear meaning still eludes me. Progress, though.
They are friends, this much is clear. This is one chat nestled within thousands of others, a familiarity and brotherhood in their tone.
Instead,
I look up
and out
Motorbikes cruise, but they are not urgent. Their pace is leisurely.
The single tree framed by the doorway perches, 70 degrees, dancing in the breeze.
I take solace in the movement of leaves.
It’s alright
They whisper
This too shall pass
We’ve gotten in the habit of asking ourselves, will this matter in 6 months?
And the answer, most always, is no.
So with this in mind, I take a beat
and
instead,
watch the world pass me by
Get Up Eight 