During the slowing of these casted, wrist-pained days, I catch momentary glimpses of the exquisite music that rises within me at unexpected times. Glimpses...catcing the fullness of one moment, as with a camera...but not a camera, which can capture
only a visual. This is sometimes a visual, but it is a visual streaming with feeling and music and a fullness of time just for now.The very next moment is new again.
There seems nothing more important in lfe than attending
to the moment.
There is nothing more full, more satisfying, more present.
Such are the gifts of a broken wrist.