The healing grays.

 I wake up early to go for a walk, but it is the drizzling rain that welcomed me, would have loved to walk in that drizzle....my health prevented me. The morning sky is cloudy,  deep steel blue-grays that mirror the hues of my mind.  Everything is a muted shade, like a matt photograph in a dimly lit room, everything except the street lights that glow into the heart of the city shining unabashedly brilliant, and hypnotic in the drizzling rain.

Today the sky is nothing at all,  it is like a child beginning to  draw on it with a pencil and then erasing it in a way that smudges and spreads the gray. And all the while the rain streaks down, invisible until it hits the ground. The sky, low and dark with thick cloud, gray as the granite stone  giving the monochromatic world outside a claustrophobic feel. By this time of day the birds should have been singing and the horizon tinged with reds and pinks, oranges sometimes. But the weather accountable to no-one is in no mood to change its hues.  There is no sky only a rough woolen blanket of mottled gray covering to block out the sun and the sea too reflecting the ashen sky......but it rains into my heart taking away all the blues of negativity cleansing my soul to spring back with a bounce in my step. 

Unwrapping a new day.

The  stillness of the night gives way to dawn,  with a musical silence except for  the pounding of my heart as I walk. There is something in each dawn that makes it  a gift easing the night gently unwrapping a new day.  Everyone is same under a sunrise by the sea......gazing at the soft amber glow of the sun cut through the hazy dark clouds. The foggy effect at the horizon and the chill t ran through the spine as the cold waves caressed my feet  making me wrap my arms around myself. Then the glow of the sun pushes through the clouds mesmerizing me as it invites me to stare deep into the horizon. The sun, very subtle as if there's a fear to rise, covers the early morning haze with a pale pure light, radiating its rays into the clouds. The air felt fresh and new as a gentle breeze caressed me and I draw a deep breath.

Daybreak brings glimmers of warmth, the golden light softly brightening up the surface of the sea, igniting the birds into a melodious chorus. The gray clouds move in the sky kissed by the sun's rays into brilliant white, widening and closing the gaps between them as the sky turns into a sensuous blue taking away the gray and the clouds slide under one another to change shapes. They just move away lazily scattered over the blue without any purpose or destination dominating the morning sky, contend to just drift along and I walk back home.

In the sunset of life.

To me, a glorious sunset is the epitome of fleeting beauty that stays for a few minutes with  a spectacle of colors and then it’s over. Yet its effects  persist long after the colors fade bringing in the darkness of the night. I love to be captivated by a sunset in the sunset of my life.

 It’s hard to beat the connection to nature by simply sitting outside and getting  soaked up in  a stunning sunset. In short, it isn't  just looking at nature, but  perceiving that beauty of nature — a sunset the beauty that enriches life. It is an appreciation for the beauty of nature,  so powerful because it’s instinctual rather than forced or learned. There’s a natural tendency to stop and stare at a breathtaking sunset. When I do so, it is  likely to be caught up in the moment, and my mind gets a break from the pains that bog me down.   I  feel refreshed, and   find it easy to lose myself in an awe-inspiring sunset.  The instinct to stop and stare is stronger by the day, and I feel sad when I miss a beautiful sunset,  yet  I  slow down to enjoy a sunset,  to really see the sunset and capture the moment-to-moment experience, not create an artistic image. It is a connection to life for me.

Watching a sunset is in a way deeply  connecting with a part of myself,  somewhere in the core of my soul. There’s a sunset within  my soul.....be it breathtakingly beautiful or just an ordinary one. I sometimes listen to my own soul...in silence.....when I really feel vulnerable .....wanting to withdraw into myself...away in my own shell...cocooned so that I don't feel the pain of the wounds inflicted upon me.  Is it because I have been strong for too long and stretched myself more than my own capacity?  I really down know.....right now I am comforting myself from everything...finding answers for all my questions.

My sunset is in a full-fledged storm....searching for myself that  got lost somewhere yet again. The sunset to me symbolizes the completion of a day’s work and shows the passage of time and a hope for another new day.  The awesome beauty of the setting sun is also symbolic of the beauty and mystery of life itself. The setting sun is nature’s way of reminding to take a break....a break from the rush of life after having toiled more than I really could. I have bottled up my emotions and feelings lest I hurt others or trying to be strong for what I go through. In my roller coaster ride of life, I kept everything to myself , being strong and never ever giving up neither on life nor on those I hold close.

Autumn of life.

Autumn comes in and fades  like a softly sung melody.  The land is  aflame, a riot of gold, red, yellow, and brown. For that brief time, my eyes are on the  beauty above, watching each leaf as it makes its final dance to mother earth, the carpet to be tread upon.The trees look skeletal and  their branches are  so bare that it is possible to count the leaves on each and everyone as I  pass by. The trees are  skirted by leaves of autumn gold and rust color and in the breeze   animatedly falling in  the air with an elegant dance, pirouetting around the tree trunks to their own orchestral rustling.  As the breeze calms, the dance ends and the leaves land on the ground  to form a beautiful tapestry woven carpet frolicking with the ones that are already there. Autumn has a sweet breath that chills the sleepy land: misty hills,  and meadows.  The lingering sun kisses outstretched wings, bound for warmer shores.

I am thankful for the colors of autumn that are the end of a beginning as the summer petals curl and fall to mother earth's bosom, soon to be hidden beneath  for without them the autumn would be a time of sadness, to watch what was new and green become one with  the soil,  a gateway to rebirth, to renewal. Long after the beauty of the leaves has enriched my heart, their goodness enriching the soil, ready for the spring to come.

Autumn  is a season that enhances the human aspect of letting go, and accepting the impermanence of things.I love this season for a lot of reasons. When I watch leaves fluttering to the ground I am reminded of  nature's cycle that is mirrored in life. The autumn of life is indeed a strange mixture of nostalgia and blessing, a way of just aging gracefully and allowing it to be.
When life’s autumn arrives, I look back and understand I  still have work to do to my  best and fullest,  a good transition time.  Seasons are used as metaphors for life and autumn is the harvest season, when it is time to reap the fruits of sweet labor..... the autumn of life in reality.

An autumn breeze blows
on  the trees
the leaves blow away
in a final flight as they dance
beautiful yet dead.

Rebelling dandelions!

I love dandelions for the very fact that they are weeds, unwanted by all  but one with high medicinal value.   I love the puffballs and also blowing the  dandelions   It is considered a weed, much hated by most, yet,  so beautiful as a flower and  after it transforms itself into a mist of minuscule white flakes, I call it parachutes of life. It is a joy for me to just see them and run after the flying tiny parachutes. Though a weed much hated the puffball are loved by many for the sheer joy it gives. After all a weed and why did it change? Why is it beautiful and full of happy memories when it becomes a puffball?

Turn towards myself and maybe the pain will actually give me something beautiful in return. I make myself strong, by choice, with my heart,  mind, and will!! Then why is my situation, my life, my 'self', vulnerable when only I  have the power to choose what will eventually bring me happiness?  The things I went thru in life, makes me learn and grow  but why am I in a state of   convincing myself? Is being strong a boon or a bane? Today I love being alone and in solitude with nature, to reignite my inner strengths and be human again.

Dandelions will always be a symbol of hope,  a symbol of thankfulness and the power of choice, the ability to see the best of myself.  I choose to blow the dandelion, a beautiful feeling to see them flying free at will and it's a mesmerizing  thing.

I prefer to be a weed,
standing alone,
loved by few who,
come close enough to notice
the inner beauty,
like awkward puzzle pieces
falling into place.

Flowering life.

Flowers are nature's poetry. The sweet smell of flowers cut through the soft scent of the morning's rain-drenched  grass and I can never be tired of their sweet fragrance. Each   delicate bloom, no matter where it is, they charm my heart with petals as delicate as  works of art and beauty;  their hues  medicine for my soul. Perhaps it's not just me who feels that way, though, there is something about their beauty I need for my whole self , to feel and be  fully human, I wonder if anyone feels  a bit like that. Without the flowers, it would only be concrete world and I think that  it would freeze my heart.

Weeds are the most beautiful, but unloved flowers and I  love them.    There is a kind of beauty around them that many fail to observe. A flower that has been a tight bud, begins  to open, with a deeper blush in  the kind of gentle breeze I  would have failed to  notice, had I not  been present 'in the moment.' I stretch my fingers to touch the silky  petals  to see and feel  the beauty that I  know is inside. But nature has its way, it's timing, and  isn't ready yet. A few more days of warmth and it would bloom into a captivating beauty. It buds, blooms and then withers off giving pleasure and joy to everyone around and once it falls it is trampled upon and just left to its fate of being thrown away.

Flower are often reminders of the bounty of nature along with the fact about life's transient nature. Flowers  often symbolize  awakening, or blossoming, giving happiness and delight even if they are covered with sharp thorns. For me they impart a feeling of freshness and soften  my heart when   I am feeling blue and fatigued uplifting my inner spirit,  empowering me by their energy and forever  awe-inspiring  beautiful and colorful hues.  To witness a flower blossoming, petal by petal, is a real wonder that no artist  can replicate.

My passion for life.

Passions for life is simply something that you love to do. Something you make time for alone or with somebody. It is a passion for writing, painting, photographing, traveling ....there are a lot of things one can have a passion for.  “Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love.” ~Rumi. It is something that makes me feel alive. I know I am doing something I love when I find  deeper meaning, and feel  really passionate about it.

Being brutally honest with myself embarking on some serious soul-searching and I discovered what I was really passionate about, but following my passion is emotionally challenging. Slowing down in solitude, I am trying to quieten down the voices outside and listen to my inner self. There are a hundred of queries and stories within me as to who I am, what I want to be and what I really deserve. It is a haunting introspection to reflect upon my  unique blend of talents,  strengths, skills, and creativity. It is a question of finding that special aspect and connecting to it with all my passion.

Thoughts flow more eloquently when I write and it is a great inspiration and easier  to connect the dots. I find a sense of fulfillment spending time in solitude with nature and then putting down my thoughts with a pen and paper allowing myself to process my thoughts without influence from the world around me. I love spending time with myself in solitude penning my thoughts.

It is something known,  maybe it’s been just a shadow in the fog, or it’s crystal clear and  amazing in technicolor before my eyes. Either way, it’s been there, sometimes stinging me with a numb sense of denial. Whatever it is, if it’s not still just a shadow in the distant haze that I can’t   fathom, I can  coax myself to do what I love and where my passion lies. I have learned  to say no for the purpose of freeing up my energy finding time to in solitude with nature and pen my thoughts. 

The charm of captivating moon.

I love watching the moon as it waxes and wanes....observing the changes it shows and its mysterious charm with unimaginable power. Its florescence and dominance can never be hidden even behind the creeping gray clouds, the moon shines intimidatingly on the land beneath it  straight into the soul playing peek-a-boo.

The waxing and waning of moon is like the two sides of a coin or the two faces of a man. Everyone has a dark side that is known to none or a selected few.  Another aspect of moon is the fact that you know it is always there whether you see it or not. It is believed to be an embodiment of loyalty.... always present whatever may be the condition or circumstance. The moon though has no light of its own and is reliant  on the sun, still has a great influence. The moon has a subtle but empowering nature representing the rhythm of time and the cycle of life itself.

The moon is in glory in the midst of darkness,  a vessel of unknowable power and strength.  The lunar cycle has, in time, also been attributed to the various mental and emotional states of people. Sometimes the behaviour is compared to the waxing and waning of the moon. The moon is a metaphor for a lot of human aspects.  With an air of mystery and magic, the moon is also associated with love and is  often considered as a symbol of unattainable beauty with all its flaws.

"The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.”  Tahereh Mafi.
Gkp

Interlaced web of resilience.

To find a wet spider web, covered with fresh raindrops is amazing. It is a moment to freeze, watching a spider's web covered by a raindrops. It is very fascinating to look at it   after a rain, to notice spider webs glistening with water droplets. Silently a spider weaves its  web with infinite artistry. Spitting out a silken thread, you wonder, what it is doing and  how  it makes ?.
The rain drops are stuck in the spider web creating beautiful shapes and patterns.  Rain ... Raindrops....both create magic around. A real life picture of morning raindrops on the tiny plants, giving life to keep them going is a magical sight. Rain drops can make a spider web look extremely beautiful. To look at a wet spider web, covered with fresh rain drops is amazing. Spider spins a web of stunning intricacy and profound beauty; when it rains the raindrops enhance its beauty with the glimmering strands of the Spider’s Web.

A deeper insight to a spider, makes me realize it's resilience. A web with the raindrops makes it more beautiful. Even after it painstakingly weaves an artistically beautiful web, and is destroyed, the spider doesn't get perturbed, it goes on to make another one, perhaps more beautiful than the earlier one. Such is its resilience. Raindrops which, crash into it from every side, catch on the silken threads and trickle slowly down. The web might shake and shiver, it will twist and turn into various different forms.  Nevertheless, as long as its anchor points hold , it  will resume its former shape as soon as the wind dies down and the raindrops dry up.  A spider’s web is flexible enough to cope with  disturbances and  over a time damages to the web is  repaired by its creator, the spider; patience and resilience to time and circumstances.

Spider's web intricately woven,
laced like a luminous necklace
dangles from leaf to leaf
an artwork of threaded silk
with studded diamonds.

Raindrops quiver precariously,
as the radiance of awakening sun
shines upon the web
sparkling in splendor
swaying gently in the wind.

The artistically woven web
twinkles with raindrops
a whirlpool of desire
like a never ending spiral
creates a chandelier of emotions.

"To be able to find beauty in small things, is to find joy in your soul".

It is the little things in life that mean a lot to me.  These little moments in life are embedded within the busy life, but to see them there is a need for a conscious pause, a break, a breath, as you allow yourself to move away from the race  to  see the simple. Those simple are  the most beautiful, but  often overlooked at the  pace that life truly moves by.  Have you ever thought about how lovely little moments in your life truly are? Those little things build up to become the most beautiful tapestry, weaving the threads of your life. These little things are often lost in the clutter of life.

Life is truly a magnificent soundtrack yet often we just don’t hear the crescendos until we are past them. The flutter of the wings as a butterfly glides through air, the whisper of the softly opening petals, the rustle of the leaves....the story every sunrise and sunset depict, the pain of trees swaying in the wind and rain......a lot more.....those tiny flowers....grass blades......raindrops....it's an endless list. Life is filled with simple little things  which you never really anticipate,  beautiful gifts of life.  A little thing to enjoy something simple that could make a  difference between a monotonous day, and an extraordinary one

Today is a gift, bestowed upon with  blessings to spend on this earth with gratitude in seeing the little things.

Little things mean the most
though they look very small,
a thoughtful gesture,
an unspoken word,
a caring glance,
a knowing smile,
and most of all an understanding nod,
are more worthwhile than everything.