Take the time to really attend to a meal, a good book, a piece of music, or a sunrise. The point is to be fully present, to not be swept up into the distraction of a thousand voices, but to learn how to simply and fully attend to one. Then, when one enters back into the noisy world we live in, even the million colours together are more vibrant because you have learned to better see colour in its essence. To truly see is to find hope. — M. Gungor “The Crowd, The Critic, and The Muse”
As the clock strikes 12 and the moon hangs low in the night sky, I drift in and out between the conscious and unconscious, as if taking my little pod into a world of slowness. (Just like sometimes I take my time machine to revisit the past, I take my slow pod to slow time now and pause for a moment.)
The world moves so far. Especially in my world, it moves at 10x the speed. The amount of tasks, decisions and goals to achieve in the mere short 24 hours a day means a trade off between the slow life.
Once in a while, I stay up late to bask in the quiet peaceful night of slowness. I love the time between 12 midnight and 4am. It is a peaceful, slow and quiet ticking of the clock. Slow music paired with slow breathing as I stop to smell the flowers.
I am grateful to have the flexibility of accelerating in life and slowing down to smell the flowers. To full taste the mung bean pastry and pastry skin, to sit in the soft comfy chair and get lost in a book, to listen to music and realise the lyrics is poetry. This is what makes life beautiful. For a moment, I am transported to a little pod, where space time doesn’t exist. It’s just me and the current moment. Nothing matters, just this moment.
Richness is not a private jet, gold status on miles, members club access or Michelin-star restaurants. It’s the ability to remove oneself from the vast space, and just exist in a small moment. Smell the flowers. See the colours. Feel the light breeze. Life is beautiful when it just is.
Slowly, I allow the fast-paced, noisy, colourful world to filter in again. And appreciate that new contrast.
We never get the same moment twice. I’m grateful.