Five years on

By lex, on September 11th, 2006

A memorial

“No man is an island, entire of itself; every
man is a piece of the continent, a part of the
main. If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory
were, as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or
of thine own were: any man’s death diminishes
me, because I am involved in mankind, and
therefore never send to know for whom the bells
tolls; it tolls for thee.” — John Donne

We come to take certain things for granted.

Is there a clock ticking in your house? You had to stop and think about it, didn’t you? You didn’t hear the sound until I asked you about it. It is, after all, such a little thing, and there are matters of so much greater importance that we also take for granted. Like the sound of our heartbeat, the blood rushing through our veins. It means that we are still alive, and even given that significance, we have to close our eyes and focus on it, maybe even hold our breath to hear it. We take it for granted because it’s always there. Or at least, it is until suddenly it isn’t. And in that unanchored moment that follows between how things always have been and leads into how things henceforth will be, what could be more infinitely valuable than that we had an instant ago taken utterly for granted?