Driving I-95 S. With Nacre.


Milner suggests that you select bead memories, and write about the most important thing that happened yesterday. What simple instructions! What a Herculean task. There wasn’t a single gleaming pearl, no, but layer upon layer of nacre, various moments wrapped in a montage of the day. And these moments, they aren’t lustrous, they are insignificant, ordinary really. There I stand watching me, buffeted by winds, gripping a rail, they pass suspended.

4:36 am. T.G.I.F. Yes, an Ungodly hour to be on I-95 heading to work. Yet, some force propels one forward, amped up on achievement dopamine, a member of the Walking Dead at this hour – hulking Truckers, red tail lights of Insomniacs, and Me.

The highway fuel stop.  Mobil Oil. The attendant takes the credit card, rings up the charges and hands the patron his pack of Lucky Strikes – he watches him shuffle out. His shoulders are slumped, his face expressionless, he’s anchored in the fifth hour of his graveyard shift. He breathes ever so slowly, sipping oxygen and his black coffee, teetering on the edge of Thoreau’s zone of quiet desperation. The television perched overhead has breaking news, a warhead hits a hospital in Aleppo.

I accelerate down the on-ramp, down the deep ruts of familiarity. My truck stop. My exit ramp. My I-95 S. My tight bend onto I-287. My parking garage. My parking spot. My short walk to the door. My hallway to the elevator. My two flights up. My Life. Nine years. Nine years of My Life. 

I walk onto the floor.

It’s empty.

I turn on my desk lamp, the electricity hisses, the dust motes dance, suspended in air.

I settle in.

The buzzing of a text message interrupts the silence, shaking me out of a trance. “You left early.”  I glance at my watch, startled to find two hours gone.

I grip my smartphone and punch out the reply:

I couldn’t sleep. Had things that I had to do…

Inspired by:

The most beautiful order of the world
is still a random gathering of things
insignificant of themselves.

Herakleitos (535 BC – 475 BC)



  1. If each day represents the soft reflective glow of a pearl, if you can so beautifully evoke each moment of that pearl, then I wish for your heart a little more light and your head a little more permission to let go. I lived ‘big law’ for more than 25 years of my professional life, arrived at work by 5:30 each morning (I had things to do too) & saw so many days through this lens. And found it hard to let go of it! So I circle back to – if each day is a pearl – it’s precious and requires your care. Be happy my friend…be happy..

    Liked by 1 person

  2. But those ordinary moments…that’s the good stuff. 💘

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Ahhh DK, as Mimi said, you limn the scene so beautifully and yet the image you draw is so stark. Perhaps you could go a little easier on yourself?…

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Habits.
    Habits that got us where we are, but also got us where we are. I am currently working on changing the old habits, because “things to do” can often wait, but what is left of my life cannot.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I need coffee…
    Then I need to read this, Again!
    Then I have something to tell you about Nacre, with a capital N.
    Because in my book all sacred is to be capitalized.

    Liked by 2 people

    • I’ll be waiting.

      Liked by 1 person

      • After 2 strong cups of coffee…

        I don’t know what to do now after I read your writing David. Do I only comment on your writing? Or do I react with my feelings and thoughts from your writings content?
        Sooner than you think I know you won’t be able to keep up with your followers. It will all be pearls, precious pearls, that you will throw into the universe and won’t be able to keep up with the feelings and thoughts, the reactions!

        This is Rich, my friend, so Rich and so Beautiful.
        You are the Nacre. And we’re so grateful for your Pearls.

        I’m not only a translator. I’m also a certified gemologist and gemstone dealer. In 2009 I ran into a jewelry designer from Thailand
        at I funeral I didn’t want to attend. Since then, we’ve been working together. Of all the precious things I’ve held in my hands, nothing is more alive than the pearl. Pearls are the stories Nacre tells.

        Liked by 1 person

        • Nacre…with capital “N”. From this day forward, always capitalized…

          Amazing backstory you have shared Sawsan. I sat next to a Gentlemen at dinner last month and he shared with me the certification process of Gemology and the trade. I had no idea, fascinating.

          Thank you as always for your kind words. Means a lot to me.

          Liked by 1 person

  6. It’s a little bit of my life too…I get up at 4:00 AM because Michael has a very long commute from here to the Google campus in Mountain View. I work from home (about 70 hours a week), and I need to get some work done early before the grandchildren arrive…and then it’s non-stop getting everyone to school, picking them up from school, swim class, dance class, piano class, guitar class, singing class, chess club…and work in between all of that. And then there’s this big house to take care of, pets to take care of, the yard to take care of. I thought at one point in my life that this would all be different, but I’m busier than ever. At the same time, there really are gleaming pearls to be derived from all of this, at least for me. I know you have them too. You wouldn’t be able to write in a way that touches us all unless the pearls are gleaming for you as well. Take care, get some rest this weekend, wrap yourself in some love. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  7. you string those beads together and you have a life. sometimes there are knots, we do the best we can to untangle them, but it can be a slow process –

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Love what Milner suggests practising bead memories. I have a challenge for you Mr K. In your next bead experience, tell us what You feel and see just “being.” No driving, no running, no working, just here, now. The final quote says it all. 🙏🏻

    Liked by 2 people

  9. We get so engulfed with life we forget how to live it… And cannot help ourselves until we become aware and choose to do something different.
    Every moment is a pearl in time. 💕

    Liked by 1 person

  10. I. Loved. This. It’s familiar. But above all it’s brilliant. Life on a string. Significant.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. I love your writing, David. Thank you. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  12. I live 2 miles from my workplace. People don’t believe me, but I miss having a longer drive to work. I wouldn’t want to go back to that one hour commute I used to have. But there are some days when I stagger out of the house and into the car, and find myself 6 minutes later planted in front of the damn idiot box here, still bleary eyed, that I wish I had a little longer drive.
    Now that I recall, I used to stop for a coffee at the local gas station. That broke it up a little.
    There was the smiling woman that seemed to be flirting with me, toughing my arm and laughing. But when I got to work I discovered there was a sock stuffed up my shirt where my bicep should be.
    Or the three laborers, in dusty boots and workingmans clothes, standing in front of the coffee bar, smiling and eyes wide, pointing to the different flavors for the coffee like kids in a candy shop. They did not speak English, but their intent was unmistakable. I smiled all the way back to the car that day.
    Then there was a pretty girl I used to see in there. I always wanted to say hello, but never got in proximity. Then one day I found myself in line behind her. I was ready to give her my best “Good Morning” when I noticed her bra tag was hanging out the back of her blouse.
    34 C
    I froze like stone. What to do?
    Maybe I should start stopping in for a small coffee again.
    And a moment of Zen.

    Liked by 1 person

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