In 2016 an acquaintance asked me how I was "killing time" in my so-called "retirement."
"Why would I want to "kill" the only thing I have?" I answered.
I am increasingly aware of my "Watcher's" warning finger. "Are you living fully or anesthetizing yourself?" he challenges.
Most tune out their watcher. Who wants to be prodded when everyone is "so stressed?"
In between "anxieties" we witness the subway rider's boredom, the tired eyes of the grocery clerk checking the clock, the divorced executive half-watching the ball game as he drains his fourth beer in the fifth inning.
His belly is fat. His t.v. screen is as flat as is his life. A once-hopeful youth he now counts the years to retirement.
Want to awaken this burned-out executive? Diagnose him with cancer. Will his traumatized eyes see how the fog of indifference robbed him?
Speed steal chunks of us. We think busy work awakens us. But half of our calendars are populated with predators that bite off precious hours.
Where is hope?
Long ago essayist George MacDonald (1824-1905) warned, "We must wake our souls unnumbered times a day."
The key word is "souls." Our soul can tell us how to spend our time.
Above the din our soul whispers, "Live love. Rushing every moment tramples the richness of each."
Defining "Now" as a moment will always frustrate those who seek to cage it. That is why Blake invited us to "kiss joy as it flies."
Best of all, Thomas Traherne (1636-1674) wrote, "This moment exhibits infinite space, but there is a space also wherein all moments are infinitely exhibited…Love is the true means by which the world is enjoyed."
Love hands me what the camera saw in a millisecond so that I can paint a new dream over days of work . Years of hard training & slow looking enable my eyes to give such gifts to my soul every day. I never go to sleep without picking one as a night companion.
Once again we see. Love is the air to breathe.
Close your eyes & meditate. Let your within tell you how to live without.
Sorry. I will not be joining you. To avoid rudeness, I have to run to a party filled with noise.
My "watcher" will be disappointed. But as I endure jabbering my heart will choose a photograph; a companion through the night before Dawn relights my eyes.
-Erie Chapman
Photopainting – "Awakening Angels" by Erie – 2019

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