It’s strange – many people find themselves fighting vertigo when they are at heights. For me, it’s when I’m on the ground.
Especially lying down, looking up at the ceiling.
In that moment, there’s a part of my being that remembers that I’m a conglomeration of cells on the surface of a sphere rotating around its centre at a rate of 27.8 km/s.
Now that I find dizzying. Especially because my ego likes to think of itself as a fixed point in the universe. Silly, I know, but solipsism often is. I know I exist. It’s the rest of you I’m not sure about…
Days pass by – sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly. But the constant that constant stays is the blur that surrounds me in the passage of time. Whether a gentle fog in my “cloud of unknowing,” or the speeding shift of colour and motion as I drive from home to work and home again, I am certain that I am living my life inadvertently.
It’s not about slowing down. No, I can do that. Though – to be fair – when I slow down I find a lethargy to my pace, a drowsiness dragging down my eyelids. Even my dreams are full of shapeless shapes, colourless colours, full of indistinct indistinctness and signifying nothing.
To live in an advertent fashion.
To take notice of the details.
To see, to hear, to taste, in a way that shouts, “I am real,” to the heavens, and demands a response that is more than echo.
That is how I want to live my life.
Caught be the stroke of a brush or the thud of a raindrop.
Immersed in the greens and grays of a Coastal winter.
Breathing air that is rich and full of flavour.