seeing the trees dance

today i was thinking about pictures and time.  you realize when you're far away from people you love, how important pictures are, to help you feel connected, to remember, to share your lives, to show the moments.  i was thinking how pictures are of the past, even just the recent past.

BRYN AND ME 5 MINUTES AGO

 

 

 

 

 

and how we live only in the present, but spend an awful lot of time not in this minute, not even in today, but in time past or in tomorrow. i thought about how we don't know what tomorrows pictures will look like. someone might have a broken leg or a haircut or piece of new information that breaks their heart.  i thought about how we have no control over the pictures from yesterday or 5 minutes ago, we can't change anything that has happened. at. all. 

but.  we have some say in this minute.  this moment.  (i say as i refuse to respond to bryn tapping my shoulder right now- in this minute- of his new fifth year - on the gorgeous day- on this porch- with this breeze- this lugandan praise music in the distance- this country of uganda.  this moment when he is right next to me, his soft head on my arm, the sound of him chewing bread, bare chested and loose-toothed saying, when i finally turn, "mommy, the trees and the plants were dancing! did you see them?") 

reminding me of this.  of now. of the hair on my arm tickled by the movement of the air, of all the sounds and the scents and the five white butterflies fluttering before me.  reminding me to turn, always, and hear the things inside of that child or the other ones.

and it is these minutes, how we live right now, the choices we make, how we respond, what we see and hear and listen to, that impact the future pictures- or might.  these minutes right now, they are what we have.  because yesterday is gone and we don't know about tomorrow. 

listen to the ones who live so vividly in the present with their wide eyes open.  and look for the dancing trees.