I took an extended walk with M in the afternoon, and was unexpectedly taken over by a deep sense of serenity. M fell asleep in her stroller soon after we began, so I was left alone. It was a warm afternoon with a bright sun hanging at an angle; I could feel its hot rays lightly touching my face. As I crossed the street and entered a neighborhood park, the sounds of cars faded away, and I was welcomed by a verdant plot of grass. The lawn appeared in shades of green, covered by a blanket of sunlight. There were dandelions everywhere, and their head of seeds fluttered and swayed in the breeze. Sunlight reflected off the surface of the land, giving it a fluid quality. I could see brown hills afar, sitting in front of a cloudless blue sky. It was a few hours past noon, and unusually quiet. The only sounds were light muffles that came from the impact of a tennis ball being hit by a swinging racquet, made by a couple of people playing nearby.
I slowed down my steps to savor the solitude, the sights, and the sensations – the sun, the wind, and the colors that made up the scenery before me. Memories of long hikes and extended periods of meditation, when I was in nature, momentarily flooded me. I felt an unexpected calmness that has eluded me, engulfed by the routines of work and home life. The tranquility was further accentuated by M’s peacefulness in sleep, which contrasted with her constant motion when she is awake. I parked the stroller in a shaded area, and practiced Tai-chi for a while. I flowed into the forms as slowly as I could, trying to synchronize my movement to the unhurried rhythm of time.
These moments of quietude almost always transport me to a place that seems timeless. I felt as if I was communicating with something much larger than me or this life. The walk returned me to this place, a sanctuary close to home, where I hope to return again.
