Saturday Morning Noticings

Do you every just want to linger in a moment for a just a bit longer? Today I woke up with a little trepidation since I will be teaching my first public yoga class and while doing my normal wake-up and morning routine (I really wouldn’t call it normal or a routine, but you know what I mean) I was struck by those things that we may not notice until we are noticing, or that may be part of our surroundings but we tune them out for whatever reason. Noticing the unnoticed.

 

The motor of my neighbor’s leaf-blower intermixes, rather discordantly, with the Spanish guitar music that I am trying to decide on for a playlist.

A fly buzzing its last Hurrah: random movements between glass pane and window screen.

The chemical smell of my almost black Sharpie marker molesting my nostrils from where I attempted to blotch out the bright yellow “Nike” sign on my hand-me-down pants.

And the tulip in the windowsill, erect as ever, making no movement, no sound, just standing tall and firm and purple.

Sometimes I feel like that fly, maybe in the throws of postmortem spasm or rigor mortis. Don’t we all?

Which, according to our trusty friend Wikipedia, says that this particular phenomenon, the “Cadaveric spasm, often crystallizes the last activity one did prior to death.” (I didn’t know Wikipedia could be so poetic).

That fly must have been cleaning itself, trying to escape the confines of the cottage, or just chillin’ on the windowsill trying to catch a few sun rays or moon rays before his body lost the life breath we all share.

I slowly sip my coffee, hints of almond milk that I splashed into my mug almost as an afterthought have created a sweet mélange. When I heat my cup up after it grows cold, the smell transports me to another similar-sized cottage where my friend and her family lived (all five of them crammed into a 400 foot square room with dirt-packed floors). I waited patiently on my best friend to be ready. She hurriedly gulped her Nescafé and leche and finally ate the chunks of white bread, now soggy, that had been floating and soaking in the hot drink with a spoon. Then we walked to school.

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