Every Single Day – ND #2

Waxing Crescent Moon – Photo: L. Weikel

Every Single Day

Every single day in the two weeks since publishing my final post in the 1111 Devotion, I’ve thought about all of you. What a surprise. And I don’t mean that in a cavalier sense of not appreciating your participation in my commitment. I simply never expected to discover just how much my perspective on the world has become connected to contemplating what I might end up sharing with you at the end of the day.

While it’s true I feel like I talk to each of you when I sit here and write each night, I’ve discovered that I look at the world differently because of you.

I guess that’s what doing something every single day for just over three years will do. It becomes a part of you, a part of how you think and who you are. And while it made me sad the first few days to realize, “No; that’s over. I’m not doing that anymore,” I thought the melancholy would dissipate. I assumed my inclination to view the world from the perspective of what might be cool or interesting or magical – or infuriating or troubling – to share with you would abate.

But it didn’t. It hasn’t.

The Gift of the Process

I initiated my 1111 Devotion as a means of holding Karl close, of honoring him. In the process, I experienced the magic of connection. I discovered an unexpected bounty of heart through the challenge of sharing my life with you. Because it was only my commitment to fulfilling my devotion that resulted in the intimacy of sharing that took place. For what else, aside from my own life experiences, could I possibly find to write about for 1111 consecutive days?

Had I not publicly declared my intention to engage in my 1111 Devotion, I assure you I never would have written 1100 of those posts. OK, at the most, I might have written 111. But it never would have occurred to me to write the vast, vast majority of them.

It’s taken me some time to realize that experiencing the most mundane circumstances and experiences with an eye toward sharing them with you elevated them (for me).

I take a photo of the nascent crescent of the moon and now ache to write about the promise of the new monthly cycle it represents. By indulging the urge to share a simple photo of the moon, I remind us all, myself included, to pay attention to the rhythms in our lives. I’m reminded to pause and consider what new thoughts, ideas, or projects are seeking my attention.

What I’ve realized is that, for me at least, it’s the sharing that brings meaning. And that means you, my friends, are an essential part of this equation.

Thank you for being here.

(T+2)