I somehow managed to remain in bed until 6:30 am. Outside it was trying to hail, then trying to snow, but now seems to have given up both. Sitting in this chair later in the morning has its own particular joys, mostly, the ability to see the mountains, the sky, the clouds, the colors of a new day. Each day is new and has its own unique beauty reserved only for that day, never to be repeated exactly.
The challenge is to slow down enough to recognize and appreciate the “new”, the “beauty” of each day, each moment. But what good does this really do? Does it really matter?
Questions such as these reflect a Western mindset that is not content unless everything results in something. With the Western mindset all actions must have a purpose, a justification that they are worthy of our time. The smaller the thing, for example: sitting enjoying clouds passing by, the less importance it has, and in fact, might even be accused of being a waste of time. And we Westerners have been conditioned to regard wasting time as a great sin. But with the Eastern mindset, time (clock–time) is not something to be used to do things (justify our existence) but something we must allow to stop, to stand still so that the present is not overlooked while our eyes are fixed on the finish line.
So… in the bigger scheme of things, what good does it do to sit and observe wandering clouds? The good is that it helps me become a bit fuller, or perhaps, a bit deeper. And who I am is my small contribution to the world around me. I am only one drop in the ocean but the ocean would be less without me.
(journal entry 2.24.12)
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