Fulcrums

"Cedar waxwings dart among the swallows
Iridescent fish with wings,
Layers of life above the water.
Under, the trout."

- Judith Beach Nichols (1919-1979)

Author Sue Miller uses this verse of poetry written by her mother, before the opening chapter of her book "While I was Gone". I wouldn't go into reviewing the book, but in short, these lines capture the feelings of the protagonist as she lies in the bow of the boat, suspended between the water below and the sky above, in an idyllic moment with her husband on the lake, before the beginning of a chain of events which will threaten the entire life she has built up around her.

And this is how life is. Moments, sandwiched between more moments, such that we may scarcely pause to identify them...moments which act as the fulcrum for the turning into place of an entirely new chapter in our lives. Sometimes, they are more obvious....such as the moving of a train away from the station, carrying us to a new city and a new life, or the start of a new job, or the exchange of rings....but then, there are other moments....standing at the window on a white-light afternoon and watching the raindrops dent the mud, waiting in a windy crowded bus stop for the evening bus home to arrive, lying in bed at the drowsy-aware threshold of sleep...moments when, as Sue Miller puts it, we are "abruptly and most intensely, sharply aware of all the aspects of life surrounding [us], and yet of feeling neither part of it nor truly separated from it. Somehow impartial, unattached - an observer. Yet sentient of it all. Deeply sentient, in fact. But to no apparent purpose". And yet, often, these are the very moments which in some sub-conscious way, teach us the most about ourselves and help us find some purpose...some direction in the long journey of life.