A Passion for Small Things

Today, the second in the series Guest Posts from fellow bloggers on the subject of Passion, whether literary or personal, which I’ll be posting regularly on a Thursday. If you would like to contribute, please drop me a line at kasia_oz (at) hotmail (dot) com.

Today we have a wonderful post from Sabrina Garie, who a fellow writer and blogger. Excitingly, she has just released a new book ‘Fires of Justice’ in the last few days, which I’m really looking forward to reading – it sounds like a fascinating mix! Please also check out her blog at  Sabrina Garie.

Hope you enjoy Sabrina’s Passion Post.

I am so glad to be visiting with Kasia today. I love the way she thoughtfully weaves science fiction, art, poetry, science, writing and general irreverence into a poignant and unique tapestry that I enjoy visiting again and again.  When she asked me to discuss my passions, it gave me the chance to find a way to talk about a collection of things that ignite a warm glow under my skin that I’ve struggled to articulate.

For the sake of convenience I’m calling it a passion for small things—those heart-stopping moments that arise from a random, usually ordinary, act or occurrence.  Sometimes in the tiniest of actions, the universe and our connection to it and to each other is the most obvious.

What do I mean?  This evening, when I exited the metro and headed to my car, a group of people stood in the rain with cameras, photographing a rainbow.  As I stood and gaped at the rainbow with the water dripping down my neck, I felt part of that group of people, more so than I sometimes feel with my work colleagues, because we shared the beauty of a rainbow.

I hear the universe speak to me in the laugh of a child—because it is pure, honest, authentic and 100 percent in the moment.  It comes from the soul and heart working in tandem.

I feel a camaraderie with the rest of humanity when I see a person who I’ve never met eat. It is a deeper, more profound connection than I can convey.  In a world of junk food, industrialized agriculture, local food movements, diet pills (you can fill this list I’m sure), we forget that breaking bread together is the cement of human social relationships.  So sometimes when I’m a voyeur to someone else’s meal, I am reminded of that essential truth. At times, the poignancy of that truth has brought me to tears.

I touch the night sky when the power goes out and I have to function in the dark.  Building fires, lighting candles, I submerge myself in elements I tend to neglect when the lights are on, the deadlines are unrelenting and the laundry needs to be done.  I love the night sky and even though it comes at the end of every day, I seem to miss it way too much.  When the lights go out, I get to revel in it.

Life is lived in moments. Nurturing a passion for small things reminds me that all moments matter, not just the ones with measurable outcomes or have me jumping out of my skin. So I write to give that passion a home and an outlet; a place to preserve those moments of awe that come from little things.

What touches you?  How do the small things make your life richer?

Sabrina


Sabrina Garie is on a journey to create the most kick-ass heroine in romance fiction. You can meet the first heroine in Fires of Justice at Elloras Cave, Amazon, and Barnes and Nobles.

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16 thoughts on “A Passion for Small Things

  1. This is lovely. Often it’s the smallest moments that can be the most powerful – when something everyday is suddenly imbued with extra significance. I love the image of everyone, standing beneath that rainbow, enjoying it together.

    • Thank you. The rainbow came out serendipitously while I was thinking through this post in my head. Or maybe we find things we have our eyes open. Your insight is so true, moments are powerful and perhaps our power stems from how we use and nurture those moments. Glad to meet you Gabriela.

  2. This is really great! I, too, have a passion for the small things. Lately, I’ve been given the opportunity to watch the sunrise as I drive to work and while yes, it starts out as torture when I leave in the dark every morning, I’m rewarded with the sun rising. I watch as the light catches on the clouds, turning them pink, red, orange, and yellow against the sky, perfect, robin’s egg blue. I also love when I catch those moments between people that no one notices: a clumsy moment, an intimate moment, a really funny joke that no one else hears, a reference no one else gets.

    Thanks for sharing!

    • Thank you for sharing. I also wake up early every morning to write as its the only time I have. While I often am so involved in what I am doing I forget to watch the sunrise, I love the moments when the world feels asleep and its me and the universe in a communion of sorts. The way you captured those clumsy, intimate moments that no one notices seems similar to my communion moments. I found they way you described it to be a breathtaking concept. So thanks for that and for stopping Melanie.

  3. Kasia, thank you for letting me guest blog here with you and giving me space to write about something I’ve been wanting to do for some time. I couldn’t think of a better place to do it than here.

  4. Pingback: Guest Post with Kasia James: A Passion for Small Things « Sabrina Garie

  5. Thank you, Sabrina, for a really beautiful and thought-provoking piece. You are indeed a fine writer, and I look forward to reading your book. Kasia, thank you, too, for creating this space–a little eddy to rest with our thoughts for a moment or two before plunging back into the currents of life.

    • Hi Naomi. Thank you. I find that high praise given how highly I think of your blog and your writing. And thanks to Kasia who really did create a sacred space for exploring thoughts and reflecting on life and creativity. Both of you stimulate my thinking about what I want to achieve as a blogger because you both are able to display such a wealth of creativity and imagination. So glad to know you both.

      • Dear Sabrina,
        You are too kind! I feel the same way about you and Kasia–both so thoughtful, intelligent, and talented, and determined–in spite of all your other responsibilities, when it comes to your writing, you are DOING it!

      • Thank you so both so much – I’m really touched!
        May I also add my two bobs-worth that I’m so glad Sabrina was able to capture the essence of those fleeeting crystalline moments. I don’t know about you, but I seem to collect them, like little snapshots in my head. Things like the look of complete understanding between strangers, even when nothing is said; raindrops hanging from my casuarina tree in the sunshine like a chandalier; or snorkelling and seeing a live giant cowrie in Queensland.
        Thanks so much for sharing yours! 🙂

  6. Beautiful writing – and I know what you mean about those small things. Sometimes just a smile from a stranger as we’re both rushing down the street can really lift my spirits. Mostly, nature makes me feel that way like with the rainbow. Whenever I stop and really look at a tree or the sky or the ocean, it takes my breath away.

    • Thank you Sheila. I’ve had the same experience with a smile or innocent touch from a stranger that has drained stress from me body because the thought or kindness or connection was so profound even if it only lasted a brief moment. Sometimes we forget that how much we share with each other just because we are human.

  7. HI Sabrina,
    As I read your post for the second time, your story about the rainbow brought to mind one of my favorite poems.

    The Tuft of Flowers by Robert Frost.

    I went to turn the grass once after one
    Who mowed it in the dew before the sun.

    The dew was gone that made his blade so keen
    Before I came to view the levelled scene.

    I looked for him behind an isle of trees;
    I listened for his whetstone on the breeze.

    But he had gone his way, the grass all mown,
    And I must be, as he had been,–alone,

    `As all must be,’ I said within my heart,
    `Whether they work together or apart.’

    But as I said it, swift there passed me by
    On noiseless wing a ‘wildered butterfly,

    Seeking with memories grown dim o’er night
    Some resting flower of yesterday’s delight.

    And once I marked his flight go round and round,
    As where some flower lay withering on the ground.

    And then he flew as far as eye could see,
    And then on tremulous wing came back to me.

    I thought of questions that have no reply,
    And would have turned to toss the grass to dry;

    But he turned first, and led my eye to look
    At a tall tuft of flowers beside a brook,

    A leaping tongue of bloom the scythe had spared
    Beside a reedy brook the scythe had bared.

    I left my place to know them by their name,
    Finding them butterfly weed when I came.

    The mower in the dew had loved them thus,
    By leaving them to flourish, not for us,

    Nor yet to draw one thought of ours to him.
    But from sheer morning gladness at the brim.

    The butterfly and I had lit upon,
    Nevertheless, a message from the dawn,

    That made me hear the wakening birds around,
    And hear his long scythe whispering to the ground,

    And feel a spirit kindred to my own;
    So that henceforth I worked no more alone;

    But glad with him, I worked as with his aid,
    And weary, sought at noon with him the shade;

    And dreaming, as it were, held brotherly speech
    With one whose thought I had not hoped to reach.

    `Men work together,’ I told him from the heart,
    `Whether they work together or apart.’

  8. Naomi, the poem is beautiful. You are right, it really captures what I was feeling and trying to say. The nature of connections among us all, sometimes is most readily apparent in the things in things we tend to overlook. And then in a moment, marked by simplicity, we just see it.

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