I remember, years ago, loving the colors of the autumn. New York has a true fall, all inclusive, with its wide, rich palette. A decade later my perspective had changed. Those orange, red and brown shades came to symbolize the approaching winter; encompassing snow, ice, shoveling, freezing one’s butt, trees bare of leaves, frozen lakes and the likes. Some people like winter. I wouldn’t mind it so long as it was a visitor for just a few weeks. But when it overstays its welcome by several months — well.
And thus for the past few years, as the greens start to yellow, my heart begins to sink. I no longer see the beauty but, fast-forward, my mind’s eye envisions white, grey and muddy black.
Meditating earlier today, I opened my eyes and looked at the trees. Breathing deeply, being in the moment, the beauty came back, and with it, the understanding that in recent years I have fallen into a trap; a snare made of worry about tomorrow. I hardly ever concern myself with things to come; at least not anymore. Life had taught me valuable lessons about worrying for nothing; about spending precious time and energy conceiving dramas that will never take place. The trick, I realized, is to… breathe. It is an old comprehension that I sometimes forget. Breath, as most meditators (and some medical students) know, can only happen in the now. And thus I smell the scents of autumn, enjoy its sights. Who knows? I may not be here to enjoy it again next year.
Learned from: meditating to the colors of the fall.