Bambi

You think "watching paint dry" is just an expression, but you're wrong - I spent a few hours held hostage by a newly painted front door. The door should have dried in four hours, buuuuuut it was full dark and insects were wandering in to my house and the paint was STILL sticky.

A phone call from brimful helped me pick my chin off my chest, and I set off for "home"....only to realize that I had forgotten my bag containing my wallet etc. at my house. Turn around. Repeat.

Have you ever had an out-of-brain experience? What I mean is that you know that you are processing away on some problem or issue, but at the same time, it's like your brain is floating in the corner of the room observing you deal with the situation? Maybe some kind of cranial astral projection.

I was bone tired on the last little stretch, and feeling sorry for myself. Not a good combination, but I really have too much on my plate and not enough space for perspective. I had my cerebral out-of-cranium experience when I saw the deer: I was braking and steering away from it at the same time as I thought, "wow, I'm actually reacting and in enough time to avoid a problem." It all felt so slowed down. The sound of my brakes engaging. Tightening my grip on the steering wheel. The headlight illuminating half her body as she swerved away from my car, and then back towards it. My front left wheel just crossing the double yellow, thinking that I could correct and get back over in more than enough time.

As I was congratulating myself on my reaction time, I realized that I was steering away from Mama Deer...and towards Bambi. I couldn't see the fawn at first because the curve of its spine fell just below my headlight. When it turned to follow Mama, its leaf-shaped ear caught the light.

I didn't hit either of them, and no one hit my car. I drove the next 2 minutes one-handed, the other hand pressed flat against my mouth, holding it all in. Here's what I realized: even at my most drained, I am lucky. My day was bookended by nature. This morning, I watched an irridescent midnight blue and black butterfly sun its wings on my front step. Although I would have preferred to have skipped the encounter with the doe-eyed, I had the opportunity to be (wo)mano-a-deero, and you don't get that every day. Also, near-synchronicity is an eerie, eerie thing.

Savor where you are - there are moments and ideas to be absorbed at that very spot.