the most beautiful thing: drifting
The most beautiful moment of my day was sitting adrift with the clouds outside my office this morning. It was only a few short minutes, but the long thick seemingly-still rows of stratus sort of pulled me along with them every so slowly as if to say, “We are still moving. We will always be moving. This will always change… and already has.”
I suppose I’ve become highly aware of impermanence lately and the signs of hope that change brings. Could be my mother’s recent hospitalization. Could be my forays into the world of dating. Could be my predictable days. It could just be that my fiery spirit finds being driven indoors by the cold a little too stifling… boring. Who knows. But the moon and the clouds and the people I see every day that are never really what I assume they are have me taking notice of a fervent life right there under the surface.
So, I’m beginning to finally take to heart the knowing that if I watch the stillest of moments closely enough, I’ll see it move. And right now, the movement is the most beautiful thing.