Attending To The Sense

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In recollection my most cherished memories become utterly silent. A late night turns into a wild silent film, the light of a home through the darkness with the blaring of music from a party is silenced by the joy in the memory. A day out with a friend, or a hike or heading into town is tinged only with the bright colors of the sunlight. In the quiet these memories become potent, small salves in the day, like most days, that are full of work, responsibilities, the minutiae of a life being lived. My memory and my thoughts sometimes do have noise, and a chaotic energy that becomes like sound in my experience of them, and so, this quiet in my mind is something I truly hear. But these quiet memories, the memories that feel like childhood regardless of my age when they happened, don’t have the noise of the day — only the silence of peace.

Quiet, outside of memory is something I cherish. For those that know me, that may come as a surprise, but it’s true. The all encompassing quiet of the trail, of the ocean after a set of waves rolls through, it is beautiful because it is quiet despite the droning on of the world. And perhaps due to a lack of quiet in my world, good memories turn to silence for their beauty, because maybe like quiet, these things to cherish feel similarly rare.

Push notifications grow more fervent in my day-to-day life, along with the presumptions of the world, the internet nearly demands us to make do with everything — from our problems, to our friends, our coworkers, our parties, our clothing, and even how we hold ourselves as we stand in line. And there is traffic outside the window, there is music in your ears right now, perhaps, or the podcast, or there is the video you just watched that is left in your head like a fading shadow, consuming us into a deafening cacophony of things. The world, as it connects to us, also isolates us from ourselves, from our thoughts, from the world outside our windows. All this noise. Distraction, so pervasive, seems to sever us from the ever complex and rich present that is being alive.

Maybe it’s not the silence of these memories that grips me to them but rather the attention that I paid to them in the midst of these particular memories. That attention that I was able to find brought with it a sense of stillness that, in recollection, brings me back into the present moment, or at least the feeling of presence. The bus stopping at the light, the sound of kids screaming and laughing, the feeling of chilled air on my face as I drive on 80, the smell of dry dirt in someone’s yard across the street. I take it in, and there in the memory is stillness, structured from the attention I have given to the world.

I recently went to Mexico to officiate a friend’s wedding. Getting there was hardly a calm or easy task, and as weddings often are, the days were full and over filled with activities, plans, solutions, problems, solutions that create problems. But my memories are not of that sense of stress from the so-much-to-do. They are instead of the feeling of the pool water late at night, the air around the top of the seaside slope, the tone of gold that the sun gave to the world, the smiles that they gave each other as the ceremony began. That is what I will remember most. Not the din, not the quips, but the sensation of what it was like to be there. In our world of too much stuff and so much to bother our little attention spans, those moments where I am aware of the moment, the world made somehow simple, those are the memories that cling to me, maintaining my wonder in the world.

The First Zine Has Gone Out!

Very excited to let you all know that the first zine of Big Little Things for paid subscribers is in the mail and will be reaching your doors shortly! So excited that many of you signed up and looking forward to sharing more writing on paper.

If you want to purchase one of these zines, just hit me up or subscribe and I’ll send you a doc to get your address. Looking forward to sharing more writing here, once again!

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