I
enjoy Unaware Days. They come in several varieties, and are those
relatively rare days when you are completely unaware of any specific
aspect of your life to which you normally have to pay some degree of
attention—those wonderful days of late spring, much of summer, and
early fall, for example, when you are completely unaware of
temperature…shirt sleeve days when you just walk out the door
without having to give a single thought to whether it’s going to be
too cold or too hot.
Any
day when you are totally unaware of your body—when there are no
minor or major aches or pains or tender spots or healing paper cuts
or annoying hangnails—is an Unaware Day, and a good one. And there
are those very rare days when you have absolutely nothing specific
that must be done that day: no scheduled work or chores or duties or
appointments…, those days when your mind is as free as an
untethered balloon.
The
irony of Unaware Days is that we seldom fully appreciate them
because, well, because we tend to be unaware of them. When they come
along, we accept them as our due, and almost never give so much as a
thought as to how precious and rare they really are. I suppose it’s
just human nature to assume that things should always go so well,
even though they too seldom do.
The
vast majority of our days are so crammed to overflowing with
have-to-do’s, with work and chores and obligations and
responsibilities, that there is precious little time just to
enjoy…well, just being.
Yet, perversely, while we all but ignore our Unaware Days, we somehow
always manage to devote ample time to being acutely aware...and to
fret about...real, imagined, or anticipated problems.
It
may seem strange that I, who cannot sit still for five minutes
without getting antsy to be doing something, should espouse
taking time every now and then just to sit back and appreciate our
lives—and that we should do it precisely at those times when there
seems to be no reason to do so.
I
was thinking today, for no reason…and I really must stop saying
that, since there very seldom
is a
reason for why I think what I do when I do…of just how blessed with
Unaware Days I am. My life is, by and large, comprised of them. I
really, at the moment, have no real worries, no real problems,
nothing that I absolutely must do this very instant. I’m in no pain
or discomfort, and, in generally fine spirits. There is nothing bad
or sad going on in my life. That is not to say that I can’t and
don’t, as you have noticed, find an endless supply of things to
bitch about, but the fact is that they are almost totally outside
myself and most certainly beyond my control, so to indulge them is a
waste of time.
Yet
even when I do have something I feel is a legitimate complaint or
worry, if I can force myself to step back from whatever it is—and
it is admittedly far more easily said than done—it’s immediately
apparent that no matter how bad it may be, there are so many others
going through infinitely worse.
I
cannot imagine that there are many human beings who have never
experienced soul-deep sorrow and unbearable grief, or not been
witness to horrible things. But conversely, it’s hard to imagine
anyone who has not experienced love and wonder and great joy. The
world is steeped in both joy and tragedy, and it is how we respond to
them, over the long run, and to which we pay most attention, which
defines our character. Unaware Days provide us with a fulcrum for
that balance.
Dorien's
blogs are posted by 10 a.m. Central time every Monday, Wednesday, and
Friday. Please take a moment to visit his website
(http://www.doriengrey.com)
and, if you enjoy these blogs, you might want to check out Short
Circuits: a Life in Blogs (http://bit.ly/m8CSO1).
1 comment:
I remember my unaware days as being much more prevalent when I was in grade school. Summer days when I'd put on a pair of short, some t-shirt, walk outside, smell the moisture in the air from the sprinklers, listen to the birds flying over, the wind through the neighbor's trees, watch dew glisten, smell the plastic seat of my new bike as it heated up in the sun (a precursor to a new car smell), all while not having a care in the world.
Good days, those. And good memories. Thank you for remind me.
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