“Living Microscopically”
When I was about eleven or twelve years old, I got a microscope for Christmas. It was amazing to look at a hair or a drop of water under a slide. I had no idea how varied a single hair was! And a drop of water? Don’t even get me started on that! I think that my mom was both intrigued and horrified. We used rainwater to wash clothes and dishes (after it was boiled, I hasten to add).
I was talking on the phone with a friend this morning. He is mourning the loss of a couple of trips that he led for young people. They aren’t going to happen, due to covid-19 fears. After I had allowing him to express his feelings, which are quite appropriate and understandable, I suggested that he might try something that I am doing these days: Perhaps he might try living microscopically. I felt the need to explain.
“These days, when I can’t do external, bigger things, I have been seeking to understand my wife a better. I am challenging her to tell or retell me a story or something else about her.”
“I am also exploring my yard, trying to learn the names of flowers and such.”
When I was young, I used to go exploring. I am old now, but I’m still determined to explore wherever and whatever I can that is good and wholesome. Why should I allow my eleven-year-old self have all the fun?
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