Moments as pictures

Moments as pictures filling spaces in my mind. A history of observation from a unique perspective unmatched anywhere. I am but a catalogue of my experiences. Each interpretation flawless and impenetrable by external criticism. Golden sunsets and perfect skin. Burning fires and witnessed sins. All formed by the same light that has created your reality. I think of frivolous things, like if I might see a map of the world with every footstep of mine recorded. What would that look like. And how many degrees of separation are between the little old Chinese man running the local confectionery and I. What would my life be like if I replaced one small detail. Would there be any change if I had not bought that shirt or if I ordered fish instead of pasta. Would I still be here if I went back in time and consciously chose every other option along my way. It's not regret see but curiosity. Regardless it makes being present so difficult. I wonder if I could photograph every moment I crossed paths with a dangerous person...how long would that album be..would I be surprised by any of them, all of them? But I digress, hard to focus but easy to digest.
So then am I avoiding something. I am not here or "there" (referring to the future). I am back there. My favourite thing is watch and recognize passion. Not in myself of course but in those around me. Not in envy but awe. I love seeing people commit so deeply and without reserve. I have a naive notion that they are all so sure of themselves. Having unlocked some secret box or discovered some hidden treasure. It is not the work ethic I lack...it is the motivation...or inspiration. You can only live vicariously for so long before you wake up, lost. So worried maybe that I may have stumbled on my life's work had I just done A, B, or C. Maybe I choose the wrong way and that is why I am misplaced. But I have been wandering for so long I can not find my way back to start again. But then again there is nothing stopping me from finding that same future from right here. By building my own bridge, digging my own tunnel or cutting my own path forward. Why do I always want everything to be so neat. Looking for life's mulligan. Life's a messy thing whether I am or not.
I also conclude that there are those who travel aimlessly. These people I think I may envy. For to live without haunting thoughts or fearless drive, this is what I admire. I imagine a blithe disregard for the wall of rules I have built in my heart. Successful gratified being. Like zombies taking in what they need in the moment and almost completely unstoppable. Not a wasted moment of worry, only existence in it's purest form.
This paragraph was to be for all those whom could shoulder my blame but I am so over it. I own this moment. Life is good. I have gotten exactly what I have put into it. It is not over yet and everyday I meet fantastic loving people with good hearts and honest souls. Some as confused as I am, many an example for me. But it is in the end- my movie. My photographic equation that leaves me standing hear as the answer. I  own the magic sweet spots of my life. Some days I am just grateful to have a memory beyond what I imagine a squirrels to be. Past the knowledge of where I have stashed my nuts is an excess of smells and sounds and sights. It is my fathers talent and my mothers heart, the smell of Nana's house and the time I sat motionless watching a ship sail by. There are the fall leaves and that girl's laugh from first year college. The smell of oil paint and burning wood and lilacs and chocolate rocks. Cheap Christmas tinsel and the love of a stray cat. The warmth of my husband huge hand more rugged 23 years later. Little toes and angels song. The causes, and leg warmers and cartoons and curlers and magazines and hope and grapefruits and more. So much more.