Tuesday Truth: The Perfect Blue Robin's Egg

"If you find a perfect blue robin’s egg on a walk, but don’t have your iPhone to take a picture of it, did you really find it?"

This is the question that I jokingly asked Ben when we were on a walk on Saturday. Obviously, I found a gorgeous, bright blue robin’s egg on the ground, under a tree. It had a small hole in it, just big enough for a baby bird to climb out of, but otherwise, it was perfect. I picked it up, held it, and was amazed by it's beauty, sitting there in the palm of my hand and glowing against my pale skin.

But alas, I didn’t have my iPhone with me, because I had left it at home in an attempt to be fully present and disconnected (!!!). What was I to do? I wanted to take a picture of this egg SO badly. I wanted to share it with you, to commemorate it’s perfection, to marvel at the beauty of nature and save this moment forever [via Instagram].

Obviously, this meant that I should bring it home with me, so that I could take the picture that I imagined in my mind. So, I decided to carry it with me on the rest of our walk; I held it carefully in my hand, doing my best not to crack the fragile orb as we continued along, and all was well. 

But then, all of the sudden, the wind picked up and lifted the egg right out of my hand (it was very light) and began to carry it away. In my haste to save my egg from falling to the ground, I cracked [er, crushed] it. The beauty of the moment was lost forever. Dramatic, I know, but it was a very dramatic moment, especially if you could have seen it in slow motion (Me: "Noooooooooooo..." as I lunged towards the ground). 

As we continued on our walk and I basked in my disappointment over not being able to take a picture of the perfect egg, I started thinking about my need to capture everything "on film" and share it. I know that I’ve talked about this topic before--our [my] need to Instagram everything and to be constantly connected—but this moment was really striking to me.

I realized that I was so eager to capture and share this experience, that I wasn’t actually IN it. It’s exactly like the poem that I shared while on vacation; I should be enjoying the experience of finding and holding the egg, but instead, I was focused on how I could save it!

I experienced something similar on Friday evening, when Ben and I went on a long, beautiful walk, and I realized halfway through that I had forgotten to put on my FitBit (my new activity tracker that I am obsessed with). I was horrified! These steps weren’t being counted and recorded on my device? If not, it was like they weren’t even happening! How could I forget such a thing?

But the steps were happening—the walk was really enjoyable, my body was moving, I was feeling the breeze, taking in the scenery, the sunshine, and the company--so why did I need to have some little computer validate the activity?

I tell you all of this not to beat you over the head with this subject, but to share yet another experience that acted a reminder of this newly-discovered phenomenon in my life: I want to make an effort to be a part of the moments of my life as they're happening, instead of losing out on the present due to my need to capture and share it. 

That being said, however, I truly am sorry that I can’t share the perfect blue robin’s egg with you. But take my word for it, it was beautiful. 

And the experience is memory enough (kind of…still working on accepting that part ;)