I recently had the opportunity to witness preciousness. It did not come in the form of a cute toddler, or even this snuggled bird. It came in the form of ferocity and disaster. It game with blood and terror, adrenaline and tears. In the deafening roar of helplessness, I tasted the preciousness of life.
Our nervous system, I suppose, wouldn't be able to go grocery shopping and weed the garden if it knew the precarious balance we tiptoe with grace in our lives. Or can we? Is that what it means to "get it?" This life - to understand how precious, how uncontrollable "it" all is and try to match your socks anyway?
The topic - the sanctity and preciousness of life - is not a new one. So I won't belabor the point. Yet, I wonder. How do we breathe in this awareness and still get our driver's license? How do we remember that all life is sacred, and yet hold our boundaries with our bosses or our partners? What does that balance look like? How high does the beam have to be to allow the picture, yet permit the necessary safety of performance?
I know not only why today my life is all astir,
and a feeling of tremulous joy is passing through my heart.
- Rabindranath Tagore