Today was one of those days where, strangely enough, I found myself somewhat bored. My first inclination in starting this post was then to write how naturally it would have made perfect sense, thus, to pay a visit to this blog and put the figurative pen to the paper.
I didn't. Well before this, I mean. But yeah, I don't normally get bored. I have always believed that it is impossible to be bored unless you're a boring person. Then I did some unconscious thinking - meaning I didn't really think this out point by point, but the mind made the leap subconsciously; I figured that I chose to be bored. I was sitting at my laptop, bored. Why was I sitting? I could so easily could have gotten up and gone to do something else - the many things I have been doing while not around here - but rather, I somewhat possessively decided to persist in sitting at my laptop, expecting that I would find things to do.
Now one might ask why I was so insistent in doing that. Well it's not so philosophical an answer: my internet had been AWOL the past couple of days (no pay-your-bills jokes please, they are stale and unfortunately already stated, no less). It is one thing to avoid something as your own choice, it is something entirely else when it is being denied to you. You want it more.
So there you have it. For a couple of hours, I sat at my laptop, wondering where all the people I normally communicate with were. After a few minutes of actually contacting some, my bum decided it had enough of sitting, and so I closed the laptop and went off to do something else.
One of these things is the reason why I have chosen to rise from the undead: I was leaning against my windowsill and just looking out at the summer day (this is one of my favourite things to do). I just randomly decided to take a peek outside, and at that very second I glimpsed a bird (one of a pair) getting tangled in this weird string thingy that extends from the rooftop above my window across the street to the big tree on the other side. I don't know what this string is, my best guess would be that belonging to an escaping kite. The bird thankfully flapped its wings a few times, mid-air, and got free, and carried on. But it gave me reason to pause a second longer, in thought.
I could have not gone to the window that very second - I could have paused a bit longer on the stairs going up, or been busy with my kitten a moment longer. The possibilities are endless, and yet for that split second that event happened, I was able to witness it. A second sooner, a second later, I wouldn't have. And that made me realize how many different ways we are blessed with rarities we don't realize every day.
