The Uncaptured Moment
As I sat down to journal this morning, I realized I didn't post Joyful last night. Bah! How did this happen?
I will tell you how it happened.
First of all, I was out for a walk as the sun went down, and my thoughts went to: "Hmm. What is my joyful moment for today going to be?" (I actually stop and assess this sometimes.) And I was going through my day feeling like it was average. Nothing bad, nothing great. Some days are, of course, overflowing with the joyful moments, and other days are just...uneventful.
As I was contemplating, I looked up and noticed the sky. I could see the wisps of color in the clouds, and even the clouds themselves were dazzling, with pearlescent colors of purple and yellow and pink. My view was obstructed by houses and trees--but I knew if I had a clear vision of the city, I would see a marvelous sunset.
Have you ever been there, knowing that what is beyond your sight is something beautiful, even though you can only see a glimpse of it?
I took a moment to stop my walk and admire the sky. My first reaction was to take a photo, but I could not; because of the houses and the trees, there wasn't much to capture. It was an "had to be there" sort of thing. And that also made me question the culture we have now, of photographing everything. I love to look at photos, to take them, share them, keep them for myself. But what were people thousands of years ago doing when they saw something beautiful? There was no way to preserve it. Did they just stop what they were doing and watch?
That's why I chose the cover photo I did. It was taken in Greece (big surprise!) last August, on the eve of the largest full moon of the year. When it started to rise over the ocean, it was enormous. And it was pink. And I had never seen such an amazing sight in all of my life.
As you can tell from the photo--I didn't quite capture its glory. My phone was not capable, and I knew at the time that I would never be able to share it as I was seeing it. So I had to stop and just take it all in from the hotel rooftop, where the owner and I were both trapped in awe. We realized simultaneously that our cameras weren't doing it justice, so we stood together and watched.
The wisps of clouds and the sunset made me think of that moment.
And the reason I didn't write my post last night like I wanted to was that I started looking at jobs in Greece. I happened to find an English teaching job at a college in Thessaloniki, at a school I'd inquired at last year when nothing was available.
The deadline was April 30, or "until the position as been filled," so I updated my resume and wrote a cover letter anyway, just in case.
I'm trying to hold onto the idea loosely because the odds are slim. Very slim. But maybe it's a hint that something beautiful is just over the horizon.