Hmmm, is it within the realm of possibility to freeze-frame the moment and reclaim life as it was always meant to be?
It wove its way into me, or around me, on a Friday lunch-time walk. A calming, reflective state of mind. A headspace I had not inhabited for quite some time. Why?
Perhaps, it was the fact that it is full-blown spring when green shoots multiply on every branch and limb, dandelion carpets line the boulevard and gaudy tulips unfold with abandon.
Or perhaps the realization that it is mid-May, when the bird migration swells each day and I have but a fortnight to dance with the winged wonders as they pass through.
The rogue wildfire wreaking havoc in Fort McMurray – a blunt reminder that, notwithstanding all our technological marvels, we remain mortal and at the mercy of elemental forces – may well be part of the equation.
And finally, I am reading the newest release by my favourite author – nonfiction this time – knowing that the narrative he is unfolding is the story of how his picture-perfect life unravelled and plunged him into the abyss.
Any of these individually, and all of them collectively, could be the cause of me slip-sliding and free-falling into that state of mind in which I take the measure of the great questions of life.
How is that the gift of life, which seemed to spread out endless before us when we were young and wide-eyed, now seems alarmingly short?
Subtract the countless days spent carving out a living, time spent in the caverns of sleep and the hyper-accelerated, hour after hour spent trying to catch up with a world that moves far too fast far too often. What remains of our allotted time to search out and immerse ourselves in the things which bring us unbridled joy?
How can it be that the things we planned to do, when all the metaphorical dogs barking at our heels were paid their dues, are now more distant than they were a thousand yesterdays before?
How has it come to pass that so many of the things we promised ourselves to hold onto, no matter what should transpire, have slipped out of our grasp and rolled away down the other side of the mountain we laboured so hard to conquer?
The days unravel too fast. The hours are consumed by the clocks to which we are harnessed. The minutes relentlessly tick-tock away.
Is it still possible or plausible that we could give ourselves over to the metaphor of a flower gradually unfolding, with no concern for elapsed time and intent only on rising into full bloom? Yes, I believe it is, rare though it may be.
Today, be a flower. Nothing more, nothing less. Bloom for the pure joy of it and expect nothing in return. For this is life recaptured from the hurly-burly madness that surrounds us. This is life as it was always meant to be.
~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog.
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Tags: flower bloom · hurly-burly · life as it was meant to be · meditation · metaphor · Michael Robert DyetNo Comments