Mindful Moments
An army gathers. It’s an army, colony or chorus of frogs I’m told. Two frogs are wrestling at the bottom of the water. Their fat limbs perform slow motion knockouts. They tumble and turn with plump legs flailing and grappling with an instinct to thrive. Two amphibious sumo warriors defend their respective territories. If only it was just two frogs that are fighting now. The thought irritates me as it intrudes the sanctuary of my own space where I seek to nurture my own creative plans for the day.
A shadow of a fish darts across the pond floor; the shadow’s creator made invisible by reflected light and clever colour schemes. Makes me think of the people you never see until their shadows move. They are the ones who lie still, camouflaged in murky waters, motionless and emotionless waiting for their time to dash into the open waters before darting into hiding again.
A blue tit excitedly busies itself amongst the branches just above me. My stillness has empowered it to share its thrill for whatever has brought it so much joy. Its twittering enthusiasm contagiously makes me smile. This is what we need. We need more joy in the world. I defend my right to joy.
The cat complains that I am not paying him attention only to grizzle again loudly that I am not giving him the right kind of attention. His ears are cold so I wrap my coat around him. His body sinks into my warmth. How good would it be if we had more of that globally too - hugs that trust and make you feel safe. I much prefer seeing warmth and caring in our leaders. It makes them more human.
The frogs stop fighting. They turn their backs to the other. With their pudgy legs they strike out striding to their respective claimed spaces. A third appears sitting sentinel in the middle to keep the peace... or the piece of territory as his own.
Crisp copper beech leaves scurry across the path like birds hopping and hoping for some delectable treat. Little whips of wind make them dance before twirling to another patch in the sun. The cat suddenly spots something worthy of chasing in swift low-slung pantheresque strides. His ears pert and eyes keen. I cannot see if his prey is a leaf or a bird or a phantom leading him on a merry dance. A reminder we can never see through another’s eyes.
A reflection of a heron slides across the surface of the crystal waters, its wings wide and free. An old joke surfaces to remind me to “keep yer ‘air on!” A newt slinks across the brown, silt-dusted, curling dead leaves. It passes the frog in peace. See! Peace can preside. I keep my herrr-on.
I suddenly become aware of how icy cold my backside has become. The rock that I’m sitting on is still imbued with the memory of the heavy frost last night. The steel like granite drains warmth whilst the early spring sun toasts my face. The whole reflects a story of deep contrasts in a season of change.
A sudden noise catches my attention. Something has dropped into the serenity of the water. Ferns gesture and point as they witness the ripples rapidly fanning out, reaching far and wide. The waves get weaker the farther that they travel. The trick is to not be too close to the epicentre. Or to drop love bombs generating our own waves to counter and cancel the disturbances.
An ivy leaf drifts by, its stalk acting as mast and guide. I’m reminded that I am not just drifting buffeted by the random notions of circumstance and drama. There has to be more purposeful creativity. I get up to move. The frogs believe that they are invisible in their stillness. They are not. I see them and know what they do. My moment of stillness has given me direction and a clarity of purpose for the day. I can share my stillness to point to where the depth of wisdom resides.
