Why are we aware of this world?

Every morning, the world turns toward the sun and the birdsong begins. And every evening, the world turns away from the sun with one final crescendo of bird song.

We are the same in this way, you and I: the world delivers light and song and we rejoice, and wander into our day; we are conscious of things and we are not conscious of others. But always, we are surrounded by movement and we shift our attention here and there.

All around us, this world tremors with fear and delight, and we are allowed to witness the micro and macro miracles that shimmer alongside us. We are witness to this world.

Somewhere along our evolutionary journey, awareness was deemed necessary, we were allowed a peek behind the curtain, we became privy to the tremor of existence.

How we celebrate the tremor of each place we find ourselves in matters deeply.

To sit still and watch the wind carry on, first feel the tiny animals forget our presence, then hear them flit about, and eventually see, at the periphery, their small movements, this chance to witness the settling of their routine is important to our own routine.

To walk from our home and spring into the homes of our wild and unsuspecting neighbors, to become a tremor in their world, to alter their space for a moment as we carry on with our routine: this chance to be measured is important to our routine.

To remain aware of our role as a witness to the world as it forever trembles and tremors through each day without awareness, without care for change, without a need to become conscious, is an essential act, and an important lesson: while we have been given awareness, our awareness is not absolute and never all encompassing.

We are witness to what is in front of us, to the fleeting moment it is in front of us, to what thoughts flit about our minds; but beyond that split second, everything is constantly in flux, everything is unstable, and forever evolving. Even the sensations we encounter are in constant motion and will not be the same from me to you.

But how incredible that we can align our sensations and call our consciousness to attention. How amazing that we can see the same clouds shifting above us, gaze at the rain outside, taste the coming season of peaches, crave favorite meals with flavors grown just outside, communicate with etchings on a page and spoken words that somehow wind up meaning the same thing to each of us.

The world is a tremor. And no tremor will be the same. But the fact that we can witness this ever-shifting world and keep connecting with each other within this constant motion is awe-inspiring.