I am having a weird thought while writing a chapter for a book, sitting at my usual Panera Bread in the Cool Springs district of Franklin, Tenn.Perhaps it is not so much a thought but an enhanced awareness: of my position at the table with my laptop, half-listening to classical music while tapping away and allowing the jumbled vision of words in my mind to flow through my fingers onto a screen with some semblance of order. It is as though I am watching myself full of hope and effort at the table, seeing a live broadcast of a man attempting to write a book. I am both the man and the observer, the two are intertwined.This is not an “out of body experience,” as the Oprah culture would term it, but simply an impression of sorts. And the impression remains with me as I offer this blog entry, and look out the large windows at a gorgeous blue sky.The impression is something like, “You are alive, and you are writing. For you, to be alive is to write. Writing is a vessel that integrates and makes sense of your life. Here you sit, practicing the art of being alive. Celebrate the wonder of this moment.” I am overtaken now by awe. Awe at how truly wondrous each moment is, and yet so easily overlooked. I must stop writing and simply be.Reader: What is happening in the present moment for you, right now? What do you see on the live broadcast, that for you depicts your personalized practice of the art of being alive?