Yesterday I was walking along the secluded path between the golf course and a forest - as I often do. But this time, instead of simply immersing myself in the twists and turns of the path, I found myself also being consciously aware of what I was doing. And on reaching the tiny stream, instead of taking a running jump for the other side, I paused and put down in the stream a solid chunk of wood fallen from a tree, giving a gentle passage for myself; and, as an after thought, for others. Reflecting on this as I returned home, I felt that I was, albeit fleetingly, more aware of my own being.
This is, on the one hand ironic, in that the condition of Alzheimer that I now have is reducing my capacity for such though;, but on the other hand I may be shifting more to what really matters.