Drinking from my hands

There are moments in life when the world we have created truly fades away. These moments require no words, no music, no people, no thoughts, nothing at all but ourselves and, quite simply, the stillness of the world. The truthful awareness of our existence and of every breath taken. I can show you, I think to myself, only to realize that even if I somehow manage to, you would need to discover it for yourself.

And so a moment like this graces my evening – the calm flowing through every single vein and artery, not spilling and yet completely taking over. I drift to sleep and wake up with the rays of the sun with the knowledge that I am where I need to be, and yet I am nowhere at all.

So, you ask, does it simply come and go? Perhaps it was there and everywhere all along. Waiting to be discovered by our untrained eyes, seeing but not seeing. I find it today, resting on the edge of a new leaf unfolding on the Raindrop plan, in the slight bitterness of coffee, in the warmth of sunlight on my toes, and in the very clouds that drift quietly in the sky. And it is in this simplicity perhaps that the universe resides, clouded by the million racing thoughts, wants, desires of a feeble human mind.

As Diogenes once said: “I threw my cup away when I saw a child drinking from his hands at the trough”

I find myself not wanting the cup today, but the feeling of drinking from my hands.

PS: I have a song recommendation if you truly are in the same space as I am. Check out ‘Something New’ by Noctilucent.