do, re, mi mi mi ME!

Despite being an occasional blowhard, I really do know that it's not all about me, and I relish those times when it's about everything but me. Most days, I'm glad that the world doesn't wait around for me although I'm also glad for those times when our paths intersect.

Consider, for instance, the greatest bike ride I ever took. It was also one of the slowest. That evening, I rode with my friend, Sue, who was an infinitely knowledgeable birder. We made a pact that we would locate each bird we heard while riding on the MoPac. It was a magical ride, as we opened ourselves up to everything that was around us. To this day, I like to stop and find the bird whose song I am enjoying.

I find great comfort in those times when I slow down and pay attention to the details. Just this morning, while wending our way towards Holmes Lake, I was delighted to ride through the sweet scent of Lindens and Honeysuckles, neither of which held its perfumey breath for me. Rather, it seems, I was lucky enough to be inhaling while they were exhaling.

These serendipitous, intersecting moments may be the reason I love Scrabble so much. Each time I reach my hand into that bag of tiles, I can barely contain my excitement over what may be, a notion that dizzies the geek within. More than once, Kristie or Jill or I have commented that, after all these years, we still haven't grown tired of the game. While this fact bodes well for our nursing-home futures, it also bodes well for this very day, a day that, like that bag of tiles, holds infinite possibilities.

While my life and cable TV have intersected only briefly throughout my 49 years, I still recall when MTV began its "Unplugged" series. The tunes seemed somehow fresh and new in their stripped-down versions. In some instances, I found myself loving a tune I'd otherwise ignored or even deplored before.

And that is the real pleasure of being present in our lives--this opportunity to hear with fresh ears and see with new eyes. Neither would be possible if it really were all about me. And so, I shake these pre-Copernican tendencies to turn the focus on me, I resist the urge to frame things around myself. And I breathe deeply, on the off chance that, at that very moment, a nearby Linden is slowly releasing its sweet scent into the air.