Below the Fold

I remember waking up each morning to open the latest edition of The Morning Call. I had this fascination with cutting out the daily weather forecast and keeping logs of it in a scrapbook. It’s most definitely an old-school version of the digital weather logs we’re accustomed to today, but it was somehow cathartic in an unexplainable way. It’s a random side thought that connects with the remainder of this passage in a fulfilling way.

Below the fold. It’s a term used in present day web design to denote that portion of a website page which can’t be seen without scrolling down. Before the days when the only mouse that was part of one’s daily life was watching Tom & Jerry as a part of Saturday morning cartoons (yes, I’m dating myself), this term applied to that portion of the printed newspaper that could not be seen until you unfolded it. The important headlines were on the top. The ones that played second fiddle were below the fold.

Where exactly am I going with this? Good question, and to be honest, I’m allowing this month’s journey to unfold alongside you as the thoughts come to me. About four months ago, I received a beginner’s origami kit as a Christmas gift. I couldn’t wait to open it up and begin my quest to create the perfect and quintessential crane model. And yet, it took me nearly three months to even open the box. Life got in the way of me making time for a new experience.

As my foray into reading poetry began, the construction of a new origami model on each morning provided a therapeutic flow activity that simultaneously allowed me to create something new while consuming the words and thoughts contained inside the poetry passage for that day. I worked diligently through each page of the manual, studying the different types of folds (mountain, valley, squash) while perfecting them to create various three-dimensional entities. Creating a crisp crease in a sheet of paper was oddly satisfying.

And while I was anticipating the arrival of that coveted crane model each morning (I never peeked ahead to see which design was coming next), it was what happened with the star box model that completely mesmerized me.

Each step in the construction of this design resulted in a flat fold. Never once was the paper anything but flat on the table. I likened the experience to creating with Lego. You blindly follow the instructions until you reach an “aha” moment. That happened when the final step of this model design said to take hold of two flaps and gently pull them apart. What could possibly happen? It was still a flat piece of paper.

It was below the fold of that final step where something magical occurred. Slowly, and with each careful tug on those side flaps, the flat sheet of paper transformed into a three-dimensional object. It has since become my favorite model to create from memory, thanks to this transformational effect.

It reminds me that we don’t always see what’s coming next, even if there is hope for what's hidden inside. Like a lotus flower opening, we don't recognize its full beauty until each petal unfolds. Things can seem dull and flat and relatively uninspiring. But with a little patience and faith, that same unexplainable cathartic feeling of satisfaction and joy can become a part of your morning call.

---

Would you like to connect with Dave and learn more about his daily thoughts and life as an author? Join his community, receive a free copy of his Pigeon Grove prequel novella, Fly Away Home, and be the first to share a sip of caffeine for the soul each month!