Beginnings

I awoke as the sun was rising today so I watched it through the window of the bedroom. There are over 200 windows in my mom's house, basically every outside wall has windows on it. Her idea was since nobody is around and nature is right here, let it in.

I think one of the oversights was the birds, so many of them fly into the windows and break their necks or at minimum get stunned. By and by, if anyone knows a solution which doesn't involve curtains, do let me know.

Anyhow, on to the sunrise. I sat up in bed and the horizon looked funny. It took me a moment to recognize the low laying clouds covering the tree tops in the distance. The color was off too, a salmon pink drifting between a distant home on a ridge across the water; the same color in a thin line on the surface of the steam from the water.

I stared for sometime, and the light from the morning began to run through the trees closer to me, starting at the top and working downwards, towards their base. It seemed a long process, as if I had been sitting there for a long time. I was locked in the feeling of surprise and wonder as the suns rays bit deeply into the surrounding grasses, almost instantly altering their color as the frost upon them melted. The speed was suddenly astounding and now the mists took shape as the direct rays of the sun exposed them upon the glassy surface of the water.

I arose to take my morning pills and returned to my room, but the magic was broken and the field of vision I now took in seemed alien and strange compared to itself only minutes earlier. The morning had moved on without me and I felt the change. I recognized this feeling as originating from my mind and instead of holding it, I simply let it go. A series of warbling honks from the birds fishing in the mud of the shore pulled me back into the morning.

I noticed immediately my personal place within the bigger scene, I was the observer who watched it happen, and continued to see. I can see when I want; there is no limit of payment required to see and observe, except for the payment our identified self requires. Our ego wants to be part of this process. It wants to be needed because it cannot exist without insinuating itself into everything.

The identification of our self with notions, ideas, even the holy presence of our attention in this present moment, it tries so hard to push itself in there; It has a great need to direct us, tell us to do things, manipulate us into doing, rather than being.

When did being become so difficult? When did existing become an extra thing, tagged onto the inconsequential bits of life? If I sit with the idea of requirement I can summon a plethora of needs and desires, all of which mean nothing and would do nothing for me.

Why do we do this? Why does our brain summon stupidity when grace and beauty are abound, all around us? Does the message match the medium? Is there some deeper complexity involved for the interruption  of your own mind in your enjoyment of something that requires it to slide in and alter your focus?