Reverb 10: Dec 3 & 4
Ugh. I seem to be struck by a nasty cold. I feel like my head is stuffed with cotton balls. Ugh.
Anyway, still catching up, here is 3&4
DECEMBER 4 - WONDER
December 4 - Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year? (Author: Jeffrey Davis)
In other words - how did I spark my curiosity. I think the most important thing I've been trying to do this past year is to be present - stay in the moment. I've noticed when I walk through life ignoring the things around me, things are a whole lot less spectacular. I've been trying to take notice of my surroundings, remain thankful for the things that I have and just generally be more appreciative. This appreciation has sparked interest, which I hope also sparks wonder.
DECEMBER 3 - MOMENT
December 3 - Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors). (Author: Ali Edwards)
When did I feel most alive? The first time I watched the sun rise in Tanzania.
The first few days in Tanzania were a struggle - it was a rough trip to get there and the time difference (and altitude adjustment!) were killer. I spent the first couple of days with swollen feet and shortened breath. It took a couple days before waking up early became the norm, rather than a chore. On perhaps the third or fourth day, I heard a gentle rapping on the window of the room next door, the chefs, Peace and Abella, seeking entrance. Braving the steep ladder from my top bunk to the floor, I threw on a hoodie and walked inside the main corridor, still chilled from the previous night.
It was six thirty in the morning, and the sun hadn't yet risen above the trees. All I could see was the darkness fading into a gray tinge, serenaded (ha!) by the screeching crows that made residence in our backyard. It was warmer outside, so I sat in a plastic chair, waiting.
I cannot fully describe what it was like to see the sun rise. Uninhibited by concrete and smog. Free from arrogant testaments to man's architectural might. The only sounds were the crows and the faint murmurs of a village just beginning to rise. The echoes of the mosque, a half mile away, as they sang the call to prayer two hours previous, lingered on the mountainside.
Seeking to get a better look, I trooped down into the yard, crunching through the fallen leaves and stray twigs, ducking under the branches of trees and finally standing at the chain-link fence, watching.
Anyway, still catching up, here is 3&4
DECEMBER 4 - WONDER
December 4 - Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year? (Author: Jeffrey Davis)
In other words - how did I spark my curiosity. I think the most important thing I've been trying to do this past year is to be present - stay in the moment. I've noticed when I walk through life ignoring the things around me, things are a whole lot less spectacular. I've been trying to take notice of my surroundings, remain thankful for the things that I have and just generally be more appreciative. This appreciation has sparked interest, which I hope also sparks wonder.
DECEMBER 3 - MOMENT
December 3 - Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors). (Author: Ali Edwards)
When did I feel most alive? The first time I watched the sun rise in Tanzania.
The first few days in Tanzania were a struggle - it was a rough trip to get there and the time difference (and altitude adjustment!) were killer. I spent the first couple of days with swollen feet and shortened breath. It took a couple days before waking up early became the norm, rather than a chore. On perhaps the third or fourth day, I heard a gentle rapping on the window of the room next door, the chefs, Peace and Abella, seeking entrance. Braving the steep ladder from my top bunk to the floor, I threw on a hoodie and walked inside the main corridor, still chilled from the previous night.
It was six thirty in the morning, and the sun hadn't yet risen above the trees. All I could see was the darkness fading into a gray tinge, serenaded (ha!) by the screeching crows that made residence in our backyard. It was warmer outside, so I sat in a plastic chair, waiting.
I cannot fully describe what it was like to see the sun rise. Uninhibited by concrete and smog. Free from arrogant testaments to man's architectural might. The only sounds were the crows and the faint murmurs of a village just beginning to rise. The echoes of the mosque, a half mile away, as they sang the call to prayer two hours previous, lingered on the mountainside.
Seeking to get a better look, I trooped down into the yard, crunching through the fallen leaves and stray twigs, ducking under the branches of trees and finally standing at the chain-link fence, watching.