I drive to the bus stop every morning at 7. Now the sun is coming up earlier and earlier, blinding us all on harbor view road. One has to stay alert to see the road, to not veer off into the marsh on either side, to avoid driving into the sun itself.
I was sitting at a stop light after the girls had gone off to their day. Lost in my thoughts I was, creating a conversation in my head with a person I have to meet with next week, when suddenly my eyes focused ahead of me to the small pine forest across the street. Everything STOPS. Those trees were swaying in a choreography so compelling and alive, I was ashamed for a micro moment, then grateful, then just a pair of eyes watching the dance.
Dropped was the conversation, the story. Trees were dancing for me.
Every moment is this! Every moment.
There is nothing in this running commentary in my head. No preparation is needed for a conversation; in fact, having thoughts of our exchange in my head, ahead of time, kills the conversation when it comes, kills a moment to come before it gets here, stops a dialogue from being a jazz riff, a dance, an improv scene. Life is improv, if i let it.
Life as Improv 
I like what you said about not planning conversations. It feels uncomfortable to do that now after doing it the other way.
I enjoyed your post.
Much peace,
Laurie
Yes. When I catch myself now, it feels so strange and I am amazed by how much time I spend preplanning (eye roll:)
So nice to meet you!
x! marga
I Nominate you for the prestigious Hug Award – Hope Unites Globally
Please accept & oblige.
Important:
Please read the instructions carefully in the link provided
on the awards page and follow suit
http://ajaytao2010.wordpress.com/2013/03/09/the-hug-award-hope-unites-globally/
Deep bow to you Ajay – for your vision and generosity and passing on of the good vibes of sharing. Too many flaming torches and roaring chainsaws I am to juggle right now that cause me to be unable to participate. So kind are you. x!marga
okay participate later
Ah, the trees were dancing for you – yes! Reading your words, I’m transported back to the times I seen the Sierra pines swaying and the wind sighing through their needles. I hadn’t noticed, then, that they were singing and dancing for me!
In a week, I’m off the mountains and trees again, and this time, I’ll listen.
Oh heck, I’m not going to wait for “next time”, I just now heard some spring birds outside my window, and am delighted to share they are singing for me!
Thanks for writing this.
It reminds me of that Robert Frost poem about him stopping to watch the snow fall, and to become one with all the beauty.
Oh, enjoy your trees this week, and the birds of now. It does seem every moment everything is bending over backwards to help us see we are part of all the beauty too!