Since my scuffle with The Grim Reaper last fall, I have become more aware.
More aware of my surroundings, of conversations, and all of the things that
are very easy to take for granted.
I know it sounds cliché, but that is something I don't want to lose, again.
Before my coma, that is where I was. That is where my friends and family were.
Then, I was sick. Terminally ill, they said.
That's when every conversation mattered. Every chat involved eye contact.
I feel it is human nature to forget how powerful a moment once was.
To fall back into a routine.
I don't want to forget how much better it is, to just slow down a little, and pay attention.
I still have the backyard. All I have to do is go outside. Especially, in the morning.
There is still an early mist hovering in the trees. The birds are all awake, shouting
in anticipation of breakfast.
If you just glance at the forest, and come back for lunch, it is a different scene.
The mist is thick, muggy, humidity sticking to your body.
The animals are quiet because it is too hot.
So, we never know what we are missing, when we don't stop and look.
When stopping to smell the roses, soak in every sense of the moment.
Every breeze, every buzz, every flicker of light.
And notice the one who is not paying attention.
They are about to hit you with their grocery cart.