One Hundred Days

The wonder of moss and lichen.

In early September I started a project. I called it "One Hundred Days of Beauty". My goal in part was to renew a sense of sacredness in the every day and mundane details of my life and the world. To acknowledge that there is a choice we can make, that if we string together experiences of beauty in whatever form they can be found, they will become a bright thread and ultimately a blanket that surrounds us. It is important to be surprised, to find wonder in the smallest of things.

I counted out 100 days on my wall calendar and made a practice of noticing beauty if only for a few moments each day. From September 4th until December 12th I would remember to pause and become aware of a feeling, sight, sound, taste, smell or being, that struck me as beautiful.

Making ice art at Mountain Lamp.

This is how it began:

September 4th
Today as I was walking the dog after work I made a point of noticing, of becoming more present and less caught up in the thoughts that rumbled around in my head. I began to pay attention to the simplest of things. The feel of the air on my skin on this fine September day.
And somewhere in that 40 minutes of slow walking through the divine and mundane places near my home, I found an idea. I think it was caught up in a hedgerow, like a slip of paper that had been blown into the brambles by the wind. An experiment. A reminder to my future self that I really did take the time to smell the flowers, enjoy the beautiful people, things and experiences of this world on a daily basis. A living love letter and a reminder of the innate goodness in the world and in myself.

Until the end of September I made notes about my noticings.
The dappling sun upon ivy bushes.
A neighbour gathering the late urban blackberry harvest.
The late day sun on the water - textures of light and wind.
Fresh tomatoes from the balcony in my salad.
Bird magic. The little brown bird (LBB) who flew in front of my bike for a good 5 minutes this afternoon, diving and soaring inches away the whole time.
Morning light (golden clouds), the smell of rain on parched earth, fall crocuses.
Soft fall air, smell of sun on damp earth.
Floating fog banks lit through with sunlight.
Open windows.
Forest bike ride – damp, green forest.
Dream of a kiss waking me at 3am.
The bliss of a Friday afternoon.
Time spent with important people, circling back to spend time.
My own inner strength returning. Dusk.
Biking to work. Faces. Sun.

Ultimately after a few weeks of this, I found it was more important to be in it rather than record it. I have experienced a tendency with photography - while guiding canoe trips in my early twenties I noticed that when I carried a camera I would look at everything from the perspective of taking a picture. So for many years I stopped carrying a camera while on trips (as a result I would characterize myself as a photographic freeloader).

I can have a similar experience with writing; Ideas bubble up and I start composing as I hike, paddle, ski, chop wood, etc. While it's not a bad thing, and is part of the creative process, I do think there are times when it's best to just be in it. Social media, and for me my blog-writing, has certainly fed my tendency to look at the world through a lens - to stand just one step away from the actual thing. I have a predilection to think in metaphor that does not help either.

  

Beauty in the snow - the generosity of friends, ad hoc
gatherings, renewing my love of the Christmas season.

I find it difficult to encapsulate exactly what has emerged from this intentional period of noticing. So many things, but nothing visible to the naked eye. Life has taken on a different, more fluid tone in the past several months. So much so that the project of a hundred days has simply become a more timeless and routine practice in my daily life. I have felt more moments of simple happiness without any external reason. I have begun to see a lit path. Each moment of beauty like a bulb on a string of lights. Not leading anywhere in particular, but lighting a way. I know where my next step is landing.




It's not that I did not notice beauty before, for I think that has been part of my life's work, but I have somehow reminded myself of myself. I've moved from feeling a little lost to realizing I have been faithfully standing by this whole time. Just waiting for the opportunity to be seen once more. 

For the next hundred days I will be adding another practice. I am taking a break from social media. I will be writing, as there are projects I am working on, but I'm excited to take some time to notice what gets freed up when I unplug from this strange world of disconnected social interaction. 

The joy of sharing time with good friends.
Photo cred. Nicola Mosley