I remember one day I was driving down the highway and suddenly noticed that the sun was peeking through a thick cloud formation like one of those pictures you see that describes "God shining from on high." I didn't last long, but I remember it. I know that I've seen many gardens in my life, but last summer, when I completed my potted garden on the balcony, there were times when I just looked and the whole garden seemed incredibly bright and vivid and now I remember being in the center of it. And not last fall, but the autumn before, there is this tree across from my house whose leaves turned an iridescent yellow and orange and I really noticed it. I mean, I just sat there for a long time, looking at that tree, taking it in. And now it is impressed on my memory.
Maybe it's those times when I'm super-aware of the present and appreciate it for what it is that I remember. I know that when I'm driving and thinking about things that are upsetting me, if I realize what I'm doing and instead look around and notice the trees or the river or the shape of the homes, I know then that I'm okay in this moment and that this moment has some real beauty to offer and I do myself an injustice by not noticing it. Because the things I'm worrying about aren't going to change by my worrying anyway.