Being Noticed
Been going through some very rough times lately.
In work today I went for a walk around the building, trying to straighten my head and shake the headache that had settled there. We’re on the fifth floor, and I ended up out in the stairwell, opened the window a few inches and stood there breathing in some fresh air. I even felt some of the stress leaving me as I looked out onto the smaller buildings behind ours.
I love the autumn. It’s my favourite season. And for a few minute I stared down at the flat roofs below me, littered with leaves from the many surrounding trees. Thousands of leaves. Maybe a million. And I looked at how randomly they had fallen, how they were more beautiful and colourful in death than in life – strange, leaves are just about the only thing this applies to – and how they looked so unarranged, chaotic. Life is like that sometimes … chaotic.
Then I heard a rustling from my right. I looked, and the wind had blown a leaf up to that fifth floor windowsill. It sat there on the pitted concrete sill, fluttering slightly in the breeze, not floating away.
I looked at the sill stretching left and right for the length of the building, then I leaned out slightly and looked down at the other sills. I couldn’t see any other leaves, anywhere. Just that one, which had been blown up to where I stood looking down, thinking about its million yellow and orange cousins.
It was a profound moment, and I’m still trying to figure out why. I’m an atheist, but the thought came unbidden, “I’ve been noticed.” I have no idea what that means.
Maybe it means something. Or maybe it just shows how we go looking for signs when we’re going through hell.
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