Quiet Mind

There is a peace that comes with being on a boat, single handing it.  More so when the ice in the water, and the cold in the air has driven off most of the other boats.  The pendants and halyards and sheets are frozen and stiff.  The water is like the glass of a mirror, but is not still as the tide goes out to meet the ocean.  Bits of ice drift past us.

December on the Hudson river, just before the freeze up.

Some of us are children of Autumn.  The sweet sadness that happens during this transition time is what is most familiar to us.  Memories of the warmth and abundance of the time just past, mix with imaginings of pushing back at the cold and grey of the time yet to come, mix together like coffee bitter yet warm, like whiskey soothing yet strong and bracing, like bread, like sex, like this human life.

There are those that prefer Florida, or Phoenix, or LA with their consistency, their sunshine, their warmth, but those places, for me, avoid the every changing nature of our situation, the aging, the dying and then the rebirth and renewal that seems constantly upon me here.

The dance of Spring is measured by the quiet of winter, the cold air of Autumn reminds of the hot winds of Summer.  It all just keeps happening over and over year after year after century after century, millennium upon millennium.  We are just a moment.

The realization of how brief and in some ways insignificant we are in the greater scheme of life, makes my life all the more appreciated and removes the stress that can be consuming about my own little problems.  They just don't mean that much in the bigger picture and to me, my insignificance is a relief. It is also a reason to make my life a celebration, an expression of gratitude, a compliment to all life, and to cause as little suffering, for all life, mine included.

This is peace, this is quiet, this is a gift.