Discrete Moments, not Fluid Minutes

Reflecting back on life, it really is made up of specific moments that are seared in my memory rather than a fluid timeline. It's almost like the moments are rocks in a river rooted at specific points while the flowing water is the evercontinuing passage of minutes, time. I don't remember every minute. There are probably a lot of wasted minutes in there. But certain moments stick out - maybe these are the ones that are imbued with huaca - either positive or negative energy. They are not always what my logical mind would consider important moments either - sometimes, I don't know why they are stuck there. A little league championship game where I was up to bat. I remember the feeling of the air, the colors on the uniforms, the sound of the crowd. The pitcher sent a fastball right down the middle on pitch #2. It was perfect. I froze and didn't swing and struck out on the next pitch. I remember that so vividly. The feeling of hugging a girl I liked in college - again everything is so clear. The yellow shirt she wore, the touch, the breath, my own heart racing a bit. Jumping off a ledge into a waterfall in Thailand - my breath catching thinking I might die but wanting to do it anyway. A Dogon funeral in Mali. A steel plant in Gary, Indiana. Waking up on a beach in Ghana. Officially being told Santa Claus wasn't real in India.

Life really is about the moments. None of these special moments seems to be in front of the computer or at work where arguably, I've spent the most amount of minutes other than sleep. Even a lot of the minutes seem to fade into oblivion, when I make the effort to delve deep and look back, there is a trove of huaca-filled moments that truly are special and unique to me.