I measure the passage of time in my life in events. From one trip or major event to the next. When I recount to others what I have been up to, these are what I talk about. I do not tell them about my quiet Thursday evening or my Saturday bike ride. I do not lend these transitional periods the respect I think they deserve. I want to pay more attention to these quiet moments. I want to get better at acknowledging their existence and leaning into them, though I find doing so deeply uncomfortable. I hate sitting still, both literally and figuratively, but that’s all the more reason to try.
The spaces in-between
The brevity of quiet moments
Inhalation before an uttered sentence
These moments in space, overlooked, not perceived as moments themselves but as inconsequential pitstops to a more important destination
The day before a big trip spent prepping and packing, only existing as a placeholder
Waiting, waiting, waiting! Focus on tomorrow, not now, never now!
The waiting is rarely ever appreciated as part of the adventure
4pm in a sun-drenched living room, waiting for 5
Watching a movie, but really just watching the clock, waiting to go to bed
How much time exists in these spaces in-between
Time lost to blinding anticipation
Quiet moments desiring to be respected in their own right
How do I separate them out in my mind?
Learn to identify my life's connecting conjunctions
Lean into the pauses and find solace there
The limbo of experiences to be recognized as experiences themselves
Who am I in this synaptic gap?
When no one is looking, not even myself, what will appear?
Long Spoon Scraps 
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