It is so easy to miss what we have all around us. A rushed moment, a thought dragging on too long, the wind of others pushing past us — any of a myriad of distractions to loosen our grip on present time and make us ignore or never even see the beauty that surrounds us.
“We are but a moment’s sunlight…” sang The Youngbloods on “Get Together.” But did we listen, really listen?
“Sunshine on my shoulders make me feel happy…” sang John Denver, the middle-of-the-road troubadour of my generation, standing aside from the mind-boggling poetic images of Bob Dylan: “He who isn’t busy being born is busy dyin…”
“… and she’s buying a stairway to heaven…” Led Zeppelin told us, as we wondered right along with them which path to choose.
Stand still once in a while and look around you. There is magic in the air. There is YOU everywhere. You can be what you see — could that be because what you see is a manifestation of YOU. Perhaps the magic is YOU, and you are the Magician waving his magic wand, bringing it all into being.
Ever feel small? Ever feel like that thing that got your attention fixated also made your space feel smaller? When you looked up and around, did you regain a sense of bigness and shake off the cobwebs that felt like they held you down but merely distracted you into thinking you could be captured? Ever conclude that these notions are proof positive that the magic is YOU?
Music, especially classical and jazz music, makes me feel differently… why is that? But a melody cannot make me feel the same way as drinking cold-brewed beer fresh out of the tap, or an ice-cream soda, or fresh root beer. The softening cotton candy in my mouth melts into nothing, transforming the color of my tongue into new hues. Why are these things effective upon us? Because they are us; things are the manifestation of me and YOU.
So, what is YOU?
The “nothing” that makes somethings what they are IS YOU. The one who creates from nothing images that express emotions that are felt, experienced and created upon.
The writer writes, and you feel his comedy, his tragedy, his elation or his depression; the anonymity and familiarity of his thoughts. How else could you do that, if you weren’t at once the empty slate, the colored chalk, the plastered wall and the invisible observer all rolled into one expressive being capable of heights that none of those “things” will ever know the way you do, or know what you know.
YOU are… YOU. Without any reason to be… YOU ARE.
© 2013 by Ronald Joseph Kule. Reserved.