The Forms of Zest

Bertrand Arthur William Russell [Third Earl Russell] (1872-1970) British philosopher, mathematician, social critic, writer, had this to say when ruminating on the benefits of finding interest in the smallest things, of unleashing our imagination, of being present in the world: 

"The forms of zest are innumerable. Sherlock Holmes, it may be remembered, picked up a hat which he happened to find lying in the street. After looking at it for a moment, he remarked that its owner had come down in the world as the result of drink and that his wife was no longer so fond of him as she used to be. 

Life could never be boring to a man to whom casual objects offered such a wealth of interest. Think of the different things that may be noticed in the course of a country walk. One man may be interested in the birds, another in the vegetation, another in the geology, another in the agriculture, and so on. 

Any one of these things is interesting if it interests you, and, other things

being equal, the man who is interested in any one of them is better adapted to the world than the man who is not interested.”

On one of my life's journeys, I traveled in a motorhome for a total of two years. During this time, my friend and I visited innumerable national parks, fished in untold rivers, hiked long and winding trails through forests and into deserts. 

It seemed every spot we visited provided me with never-before-seen sights, awesome grandeur, amazing natural landscapes. My usually adequate and often descriptive vocabulary simply devolved into one exclamatory word: "Wow!" 

One day my friend remarked, "You say 'wow' more than any person I've ever known." I didn't have an oral response to his comment but my mind took this as a criticism--even though there wasn't a hint of opprobrium in his voice. 

I've no doubt dwelt on this comment way too much and too often. In the process, however, I've cemented the realization that I am a person who inhales experiences. 

Not that I have traveled far and wide or been involved in any particularly exceptional or unusual life situations. Prosaic as it may sound, I savor life and its vagaries and am able to find something of interest, and often an amazing amount of joy, in every day. 

In her poem Fully Alive, Dawna Markova vows:

I will not die an unlived life.

I will not live in fear

of falling or catching fire.

I choose to inhabit my days,

to allow my living to open me,

to make me less afraid,

more accessible,

to loosen my heart

until it becomes a wing,

a torch, a promise.

I choose to risk my significance;

to live so that which came to me as seed

goes to the next as blossom

and that which came to me as blossom,

goes on as fruit.