Silent Messages
Sometimes we need excuses to do nothing. We need to be reminded by these patron goddesses of idle fellows that slowing down and being in the present, not thinking about what you've got to do and what you should have done, but just being here, letting your imagination lift from the everyday concerns down here and just being in the present, it's good for you, and it's good for the way you feel. It's good for your ideas. It's good for your creativity. It's good for your soul. So keep looking up, marvel at the ephemeral beauty, and always remember to live life with your head in the clouds. — Gavin Pretor-Pinney
Above me is a poetic landscape of constantly shifting clouds — always moving, always changing.
As the thin late-September sunlight makes lumbering progress through the clouds, I roll onto my back, eyes closed in a lazy haze, and listen to the birds singing and the leaves whispering as the wind rouses the air. The long blades of grass — casually peppered with dandelions — gently tickles the shells of my ears, and I smile as I submit to the sensations around me.
Arms folded beneath my head, I find peace in my solitude and savour the moment, knowing it's not destined to last.
I take my time before opening my eyes to find that I am looking deep into the bottomless soul of the Earth. A subtle tingling sensation ripples across my cool skin, as the stark truth that I am witnessing my own reflection suddenly dawns on me.
Like an extension of my own body, the scene is so familiar. I have been here before, more than once, and each time the concept of time holds no significance. The imperative is crystal clear and it lies solely in the act of being. All that matters is the essence of existence in the immediate and unfiltered now.
From what I see, hear and feel, I know that this is the safest route home; an unbroken journey towards the bosom of pure love, peace, and harmony. I find myself longing to be up there, nestled within the depths of it all. To leave the troubles of the unyielding earth behind and ascend to the free-flowing tranquillity above. In my mind I can see myself reaching... reaching... stretching beyond my limits — activating dormant muscles in my pursuit.
I am longing to feel the soft cushion of the clouds against my back and to feel their wispy forms caressing the hollows of my palms. I have them against the tips of my fingers… and then they’re gone.