Saturday, July 11, 2009

forgetting to remember

This morning, Penelope & I went to the Farmer's Market. Burlington is hosting the "Quadricentennial" celebration for Lake Champlain, and the Market expanded to fit the occasion. We both felt a different energy flowing through the crowd. It seemed calm and inviting, we felt compelled to linger, not in spite of the crowds, but because of them, with them. There were vendors from all over selling all sorts of delicacies and delights.

Once we had satisfied our immediate need for fresh veggies to get us through the weekend, our wandering brought us to the wine tents. As a rule, I generally ignore all local wine. I tried a few some years back, and found the quality to be so far below my palate's standards that I subsequently have deemed any North-Eastern wine to be irrelevant. The one genre that escapes this judgement is Quebecois Ice Wine. And so, when I saw that a local Vineyard was sampling their versions, I was legitimately curious, though my expectations were very low.

We tried a cassis ice wine first. And it was good! Expecting a thick syrupy sweet sipper, we were delighted by it's refreshing lightness. Then onto an ice cider, which was frighteningly delicious, and just happened to come from West Charleston, a little town up north near our hometown of Newport. Feeling brave, we tried a white. It didn't suck! I actually tasted layers of subtle complexity, and felt humbled.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how to be grateful in the moment, and not get caught up in the little prejudices. They grow so slowly that sometimes you don't see how your vision is tinted by them, or how you make choices because of them. For example: "Ugh, I don't want to go to Farmer's Market, it'll be so crowded and this huge social ordeal and I'll spend too much money and blah blah blah." I want to be able to address my perspective and turn it around so that I can truly enjoy the beauty of every day, the gifts of this life that I've chosen. To be near my family and friends. To live in a small town where everybody knows everybody. To have the option of riding your bike or walking, depending on how much time you've got. "Let's go to Farmer's Market! We get to buy beautiful fresh food from people that we know, we get to see our friends and acquaintances in a setting infused with art and life, I can make a difference by choosing to support the local economy!"

Every day offers new gifts. If I can't see them, I should look harder, or create them. And take time to savor the surprises that teach me to forget to remember what I think I've learned. Because with every passing season, I realize more and more that I know nothing at all. And that's good, I think, because it gives me permission to try old things again as if they were new. Even if it hasn't changed, maybe I have.