The present from my window is a street in Phoenix, Arizona where cars pass by. I am on the ground floor and I see the cars passing through my window. The window has venetian blinds which, as you might have guessed, are open. There is a tree between the street and my window. In the room itself, there is this personal computer and a chair where I was seated with my body turned away from the computer and my neck turned towards the computer just before I adjusted my position or my attitude, pick one. That was a minute ago. I still feel a pull in my neck which needs further attention. Will be right back. I realized what the problem was and have corrected it. It is better than before but not ideal. I know what ideal is and thinking about it would send me either to the past or the future and I want to be in the present.
It was a fire truck that just passed going north. I am still in Phoenix, Arizona. I think it is a different kind of place here than anywhere else I have been. Today, after church, someone told me they are bored here. I have heard that word a lot lately.
The present got boring for a few minutes and that gave me a chance to want to stay in the present even more. Because boredom expects something that is not happening. To combat it, one must remember the passion, the gift, the present and the freedom.
There is a traffic light a few yards from my window and the countdown for the pedestrian crossing light can be heard at times very distinctly, other times not at all. I have not figured out why yet. It starts from ten and ends at zero with the screen showing the numbers followed by a green pedestrian walking. A green screen with the figure of someone taking a step forward. We have seen those in many cities but the numbers are a novelty for me.
Where is the gift in all this? I am writing. That's one gift. I can cry too. That's another gift. I can complain till morning. Is that a gift? It would be if I could complain in a literary way, like a woman of letters. The letters Ayp, Pen and Keem in my case. iPen Keem is the name of the show I will be giving on December 19, in Scottsdale, Arizona, in Armenian. From Ayp to Keem would be a good translation of the name. It will coincide with the official release of my CD Sandplay which contains songs from the show. One to be exact. The other songs on my CD are from my show Tayen Fe. That translates from the letter Ta to the letter Fe. But what are all these letters you will ask. These are the letters of the Armenian alphabet I would answer. Then you will say "oh, now I understand."
I did that without complaining. I will wait and complain during my show. Just for laughs. After all if you can't make them laugh, don't complain, you will end up boring everybody.
A man just rode his bicycle coughing and spitting loudly. I am complaining.
The moral of the story is that the present contains the past and the future. The gift is to know this. I like that. Do you?
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