A Photo a Day 31
I’ve found it a bit difficult to keep an eye out for small moments of beauty lately. It isn’t that they aren’t abundant. It’s rather that now and then I have a hard time holding the world in my head. London, London, London, Paris, Virginia, Brussels, Otto Warmbier. I feel as though I need to freeze time so as to post this sooner rather than later, as the list grows daily, and the edits and updates may never cease. It’s always something: in the absence of other disasters, there’s always Trump, ever Trump.
When unfathomable events accumulate rapidly, I find myself unconsciously stilled, squinting into middle distances, mouth slightly agape, shaking my head, bewildered. I’m not sure I should be operating heavy equipment. I sit at a red light, only realizing it’s gone green when cars behind me honk. I walk into a grocery store with no idea why I’m there. A persistent headache is immune to Ibuprofen.
My attention span is mercilessly short. Strolling God knows where on the internet a couple of days ago, I came across a story. A woman had printed some white business-size cards with You matter. That’s all. She planned to carry them around with her tucking them into places anonymously.
The story stuck in the back of my mind and surfaced this afternoon when I was despairing of using my cranky, achy mind to notice anything outside itself. I’m without a functioning laptop at the moment, and I haven’t figured out how to download my printer’s driver to my tablet. But I’ve got white paper and scissors. And a red Sharpie. Call it mindful or hippy-dippy, a small affirmation may comfort me as much as someone else.
I feel a trip to the grocery store coming on.