Every year on my birthday, I’m asked if I feel any older. I always say no. Because I don’t. Not in the immediate reflection, anyway. But like leaves from spring to fall, growing and changing is inevitable. It transpires without us even noticing. Then we stop and realize everything is different. It’s sad in a way, because anything lost always is, especially time, but also really beautiful.
This morning, I woke up and had coffee on my patio like I do every morning. There’s something about being outside that just sets me for the day. Most of the time though, I’m flipping through Instagram or checking emails. I’m outside, but not really. My head is somewhere else. So this morning, I put down my phone and just watched, and breathed, and listened.
At first it was hard. I had a million things running through my mind. But I wouldn’t let myself pick up the phone. I just sipped my coffee. And minute by minute, I slowly, almost unknowingly, detached myself from anything but God and nature.
I became a part of the picture around me. The raindrops sitting on the wispy blades of grass. The curled branches and stems painted with a stationary drift of green, highlighted with touches of burgundy and brass dripping to the ground. The bamboo wall fluttering with every breeze, harmonized by the tiny wind chime dancing nearby. The melodies the birds intuitively sang along with them, a gift most people in this town pray for.
Right then, I decided I never wanted to become immune to this type of beauty again.