I sat by the river. We were visiting town for a conference, and my spouse was going to some sessions I didn’t choose to attend. The weather was very warm, an overcast early spring day with a mild-mannered breeze, and being indoors in even a perfectly nice hotel room is a waste on such a day, so I walked down to a spot nearby and sat by the river.
As daily life passes in its ordinary ways, I so rarely pause and think deeply about what’s happening in my orbit. It’s so very easy to forget to look around to stop and let go of all forms of busyness and buzz, and simply Be. To sit by a river for an hour doing nothing can become everything.
In that hour I was silenced, stilled. I felt a deep repose settle in me, a sense of quiet peace that I hadn’t realized had been absent, banished to memory by the constant chasing and chatter of ordinary things for so long. Even the soft conversation of passersby and the rush of traffic on the road so few paces away were hushed to a sussurant tide washing the shores of my peripheral perception. Closed in an invisible veil of calm, I felt my reverence for simply being alive well up, awaken in me, renew.
The light scent of cut grass overlaid the ambient dust of a dry week; the crunch of passing footsteps was so soft that even the river’s low whisper beyond could be heard, punctuated by the distant fluting of some bird tucked under the trusses of a bridge. The hazy overcast hid the face of the sun, but its warmth suffused my skin until I thought I, too, might radiate light and heat. My usual inner litany of things demanding my efforts and attentions slowed, and slowed again, until my state of rest was such that I let go of nearly everything, even that sense so common in those rare moments of pause, that I should sleep. This was the rare kind of rest in which I would far rather be awake.
Action and angst and haste and harriedness always return soon enough. But in a moment of genuine and grateful repose, I found refreshment that can underlay it all and remind me to embrace all that is peaceful and contented within. If I am wise, it’s to this power I will assent to bend.
It’s during these special moments, that we fully realise how much we rush and plan…and often miss the beauty of simply being still. Thank you for this lovely post. x
I can certainly imagine you having spent similar quiet times in your magical garden in Crickadoon! I hope you’ve found appropriate surrogate environments for the same meditations where you live now. 🙂 xo
beautifully written, I was there with you and feeling that meditative time even though I was staring at a computer, your words blanked it out., thank you.
So glad to share the peace. Now I shall blank out *my* computer by heading off to the Land of Nod for a few hours. 😉 xoxo
I hadn’t read very far when I realized your experience was the same as mine, that I wrote a poem about, and you may have read: http://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/10/13/it-is-enough-by-dennis-lange/
Yep, yours is lovely. Thanks, Dennis!
Your writing always relaxes me and makes me realize how hurried I am. Thank you. 🙂
And I, in turn, find respite and contented relaxation in so many of *your* lovely photos and posts! 🙂
Thank you! hehe
Beautiful Kathryn. I never used to stop until something completely outside my control stopped me. As a result I have changed, for the better I think. I really used to think I did notice the small things that are really the big ones, but I never did, not properly; I do now. 😊 X
You are so wise, my dearest. I abhor the external reason that forced your slowing down, but I admire deeply your ability to choose to take advantage of the directive and make good use of it. I will do my best to learn from *your* example and pace myself better, pay more attention to the good things in my present and my presence, and celebrate those riches as best I can. Bless you for sharing that journey of yours with all of us!
Spot on again! (My comments must be more imaginative)
The very fact that you so kindly come by here and read is such a gift to me, and any comments at all are icing on that cake indeed. Thanks, my friend! 🙂
The pleasure is all mine!
Thank you for this!
My pleasure. I hope you two are finding enough free time to take the occasional refreshing break yourselves! 🙂
Lovely reflections and photo, as always, KI. Did you ever get to that post – not sure exactly what you had in mind, but I believe it was talk on culture/identity that sparked it?
I did do so, albeit in a fairly simplistic way: https://kiwsparks.wordpress.com/2014/03/20/bland-like-me/. Even though you spark much deeper thinking in me at every read, I am not always up to voicing my response with appropriate richness, but I deeply appreciate the inspirations you give, nevertheless!