I am always slightly frustrated that I can't capture the beauty of a moment. The double rainbow we had a couple months ago was a mere shadow, an apparition of the beauty in the sky when I tried to snap a picture.
Yesterday I woke to a glorious sunrise. The lightening midnight blue horizon was streaked with vibrant pink. My I-Phone was beside my bed so I snapped a picture of what I saw upon awakening. And this is it. If I hadn't told you about the blue and pink you'd not have a clue why I dropped this picture into the blog post.
I suppose my inability to capture moments is a powerful truth. After all, "You had to be there" is a statement that occasionally needs to be shared. (In my case it's because I'm trying to tell about something hilarious that happened to me and am usually laughing -- make that hooting and laugh-crying -- and ineptly trying to get a story across to some poor soul who can only stare at me and occasionally nod.)
Writing is part of that drive to capture moments, too. Why do I blog, or write or create? It's to communicate something inside of my mind to others. An attempt to boil down an event or happening or thought or idea into a "photograph" that someone else can benefit from.
Maybe the unique lens that we see through, the experiences we have, the aha moments, the "you had to be there" adventures, maybe those are treasures for us. Little unique blessings that touch our souls and minds for a searing second or so, and our spirits long to grasp the depth, so we snap a picture or make a memory and try to share it with someone else. And when we can communicate the beauty that touches our souls and changes us (because I believe we are changed by our moments) we possess another beautiful moment.
My misrepresentation photo is not frustrating, it's beautiful. So I will continue to look at two dimensional attempts to capture the elusive and choose to see behind the anemic shadow to what lies beyond, the vastness, the glory, the gorgeousness of life and creation.
Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.