I had the morning off, so instead of looking at a computer screen while eating breakfast, I put on some meditation music, gazed out my window and skimmed through a book of haikus.
I had an old nostalgic feeling of what it was like to be young and so amazed by the world, of walking over a bridge and getting lost in the sparkles of the water, of delighting in the way a grasshopper wrung its hands or the way a leaf gently floated to the grass. I miss the long nature walks I used to take, only to stop in my tracks to write a poem.
These days, I spend a lot of time in front of my computer, networking with people I used to see in person. I’m fascinated by a picture or link on the internet and I laugh at funny jokes people post. Have I traded some of my silent time for this? Have I stopped writing poetry and gazing at sunsets so I can boggle my mind with gifs and jpgs and other such things? Have I forsaken long talks, while sitting on the curb for short banters with people online who could leave at any time? It does change a lot. No more long goodbyes. Just stop typing.
I have to remind myself of the joy that stillness brings me. I have to remember what it’s like to be in the moment and just appreciate what’s right in front of me. A slant of light in my study space, the way dust floats in the air, the way my dog licks its paws. These are the little things that bring peace, joy and contentment. I have to remember that I don’t have to be moving and striving all the time. I can stop and rest and revel in what I have now.
If I get envious when I look at a child playing in the meadow or an old man just sitting there, smiling at the sun, I know it’s time to stop and smell the roses. Love, art, music, peace and reverie can only happen in the now. There is not time like the present. There’s nothing more beautiful than what’s right in front of you.