Today I talked about my experience in London in full two times in one afternoon. I hadn’t really narrated the entire sequence of events before other than to my friend Emma the day I returned to Yorkshire. The first time was to Kevin Farnham at Method, when I went across this afternoon to start the project I’m working on and I found myself re-living the event in my mind’s eye while telling the story. I didn’t expect to recollect the feelings and sensations with the clarity that I did, three weeks after the event, but it was close to a flashback. Not particularly upsetting, just unexpected.
Later, at home I called my friend Sarah Nashold; she’s a design research consultant with SonicRim who’s currently working on her art show to be held in St Louis in September sometime (more on that in a bit, it’s really cool stuff). Due to both our travelling we hadn’t touched base since the beginning of June, so naturally I was telling her about my trip to the UK and about being in London on July 7th. She asked me if I’d been upset or traumatized by the experience, the fact that just a couple more minutes I would have turned that corner onto Woburn Place. And I found myself saying, "No, not at all, it’s really weird but it’s almost as though I realised that my mission on earth was not over yet, that my time had not come and I was calm. It’s almost philosophical that I’ve begun thinking about how I’m living my life and what my priorities are now."
When just the difference of a few minutes, or a minuscule shift in time or space, may place you literally in the path of danger, you realise the value inherent in the every single moment you do have on this earth. We have just this one life to live. What is truly important? What do we value? Why? It’s been just a minor shift in my orientation, but an extremely profound one.