Mindfulness is a serious discipline for me. It’s hard work and I can only manage it for a little while at a time. I try to be aware of the many, many technologies in my life, some small, others big, things I could not begin to replicate on my own.
Most mornings I start when I first awake. I stretch and ask myself what day it is and what’s on the calendar. The calendar. Its creation was a very big thing.
Sometimes I awake to the sound of music on the clock radio. And I think clock, radio, electricity, music. I am in a comfortable bed — mattress, pillows, sheets and blanket. I think fabrics and weaving. I head for the bathroom and think indoor plumbing, toilet paper.
I step on the scale — scale. I keep a log of my weight. Pencil. Paper. Writing. Reading. I dress.Clothing, fabric again and the art of sewing. Shoes and shoelaces. Someone thought to make laces with hard tips and put holes in shoes to thread them through. Hearing aid. Eyeglasses. Wristwatch. Earrings.Comb and brush. Make up. Mirror.
I usually stop at the computer first thing most mornings, even before, I’m ashamed to say, breakfast. Thecomputer — a whole other technology that I don’t even begin to understand.
Morning pill and a glassful of water. Medical System. Glass. Water again and at a touch of the tap. Breakfast. A refrigerator (electricity again) and food. An entire efficient food distribution system. Often at this time of year we are aware of and thankful for the bounty of food available to us and sometimes at gatherings we thank the unknown people who plant and harvest the vegetables and drive the trucks that bring them to us. It is hard to remember them at the supermarket where there are so many things and so many brands of the same thing to choose from but that is another meditation.
This morning I treated myself to a scrambled egg sandwich. Bread in a loaf. Eggs in a carton. Coffee. Electric coffee maker. Mug. Plate. Knife, fork, spoon. Breakfast table and chair. I have breakfast by a window from where I watch the birds. Windows. Glass.
I step outside to fetch the newspaper. The morning newspaper. Printing, writers, photographers and thedistribution system again.
The car waits on the drive, ready to take me — wherever. Automobile. Gasoline at a pump. Roads. Traffic lights. Street signs.
The mailbox is out front too. Mail and its wondrous distribution system. Write a letter or pay a bill and it is delivered virtually anywhere in the world.
A little more than an hour has passed since I stretched into wakefulness. I have only made it out of the door and I am overwhelmed with the magnitude of the gifts to me from unknown minds and hands. I am knocked down to my knees with gratitude for the comforts I enjoy only because of where and when I was born. I have done nothing to deserve them. I can only be aware and grateful for them.
The writer began her photographic career in 1981 as a part-time photojournalist and became known for her portrayal of Alexandria people and places. She opened Tisara Photography in 1985 and was soon joined by her son, Steven Halperson and daughter, Lynn Mills. Tisara served on the board of directors of the Alexandria Chamber of Commerce for six years and was a founding member of KSMET, the association of businesses in the King Street Metro area.