Familiar but not the same
November 28th, 2022
Everything I do from day to day is pretty alike. My mornings are the same — usually hectic and hurried, days are busy and loud and pointless — if it wasn’t for the money I need to make. My afternoons vary a little from one to another — only changing based on which way I am going home. Evenings are identical, including those weekend evenings as well — quiet with just a barely felt underlining of nervousness and despondency. There might be some changes from weekdays to weekends, but my routine is well set.
It is not boring, yet. If it became boring, I am pretty sure I would notice it and be able to change it. But so far there is no boredom at all in what I do. Especially in all the small changes that I see in everything. I looked out the window right now. The view is the same as the day before, and the day before that. Right? Not quite. Cars outside are familiar but are parked in a different order than any time before. There are lights in the windows of houses I can see, but I am sure in a different pattern than I have ever seen before. Clouds in the sky surely are not the same shapes as the clouds yesterday or any other day before. The melting snow on the ground forms different patches than any time before today. When considering it all — cars, lights, clouds, and snow patches — the variations I see today have never been seen before. All those different variables make this particular moment a unique moment.
A moment that never happened before. Never the patterns of what I see were exactly like those I see right now. And a car just pulled in, making a completely new pattern in my view. And I think the light in the window two houses down was just turned on, so yet another pattern has formed. How can this be boring? There is always something happening around us, there is always a change to things we see. All that is necessary to notice that, is to register all the visual stimuli and changes between them. The view from the window might look familiar to the previous hundreds of views from that window. It is not the same, though. Minimizing expected needs and concentrating on the minute is richly rewarding. Especially on long evenings in winter, when the shadows from the lights from windows and passing cars create an unending parade of shadows.
And shadows are never exactly the same, except in their nature — they are always menacing and sinister. Especially when they fade away without a trace, together with the passing light.
