The water is just short of still as the wind subsides. Water
is barely moving, rippling gently with wind’s memory. The reeds no longer sway,
finding some momentary equilibrium. Bright sky and clouds occupy my downward glance.
Yes, that is what lies in front of me. And so? And so on
this day, it is my intention to practice noticing, staying with this moment
until it suggests what is next. I do this, rather than allowing my vagrant mind
to shift and jostle for my attention, jumping up and down like an over-stimulated
I see ever more clearly the obstacle created
by my impatience, this desire to be elsewhere. I remember that yearning for whatever is next means that I'm not
in this very moment. So simple it is. Simple, yes, but what to do? I am overwhelmed with how often I succumb – driving
in traffic, reading a book, working on an image. It makes me wonder what it is
about this moment that requires leaving it for something new.
I don’t know. And perhaps the why of it isn’t important. So let’s
see what happens when I practice: will the focus stay with the moment? Will the noticing of impatience remind me
to take a breath and stay with this moment rather than racing to the next? I’ll keep