Tuesday night I was eating dinner at my kitchen counter and catching up on reading e-mails. You know the ones that you know have good nuggets of information in them, but you don’t have the time to read them in the moment they arrive, so you leave them unread until you can give them your undivided attention. Like the ones from that half marathon training team coach, or that person whose take on marketing for creatives you love. Those e-mails. All 30 something* of them. (*May or may not be a gross underestimation of the actual number.)
At some point, I took a break from mindlessly chewing, looked up from my phone, and saw this outside my window:
And I thought isn’t that pretty before turning back to my bowl, back to those e-mails. Which is when this tiny voice inside my head grew big lungs and screamed STOP.
I put down the spoon, set aside the phone and watched the sun dip low behind that building. The yellow blending to orange and then ending in pink wisps. Art. Perfectly framed in the window.
This past weekend my husband and I took a little road trip to Washington DC. For several years of my life I lived just a short train ride outside of the city, and for the rest of it I’ve lived within a several hours drive. As a result it’s easy to forget what a destination the nation’s capitol is for so many people
I thought about this a lot as we circled the National Mall twice on our Saturday morning run. Passing the Capital Building, the Washington Monument, many of the Smithsonian museums. Catching glimpses of the White House and the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. You know, just out for a little run, past things that some people may only ever see in books. My cousins who live in the city and run on the mall all the time, say it never gets old. They’re always aware of the magnitude of what they see in those few miles.
But is that true for everyone? Or does this sense of gratitude and amazement require some cultivation. Continue reading →