It was a cold, dreadful morning. A blizzard morning. No heating in the plane until the engines were on. And no engines on until we had a slot for takeoff. And no slot for takeoff until the most of the morning rush was over. Finally the air traffic control had mercy on us. The captain was allowed to start the engines. The wings were de-iced at the gate. There was snow everywhere, and a flurry behind the tail of each departing airplane. We rushed off, and were airborne. And suddenly there was the most marvelous golden sunrise, like an old oil painting on canvas.
Sometimes all you need to do to see beauty is to raise your eyes above the flurry right ahead of you. And if you still cannot see it, try a bird’s eye view.
Lovely ones, apologies for the silence. You see, when this blog is silent it is because I struggle to find the time to be silent. And at the moment I also struggle to find enough capacity in my ancient MacBook to do anything else than surf on the internet.
This winter is a tough one, tougher than in years. Perhaps it has been the cold, and the snow; or perhaps it is my work schedule and countless of hours spent in airports, or simply the countless meetings with strangers, trying to appear smart and present.
While some have to work, others have to enjoy life. To each their own burden. Cats are masters of mindfulness and so was Hamlet: to be or not to be; that is the question. There is never anything in-between. But trying to be present at every moment is an exhausting practice unless one masters the way of detachment. And I have a long way to go.