You don't have to go far, to find a place of peace and quiet. Sometimes, you might need to look hard for it, but it's worth it. Don't you think?
At times, you might not be looking for it, only to have that special place find you. They say that when the student is ready, the teacher will appear, and maybe it's the same for moments of peace.
The winds could be howling about you, ripping the leaves off tree branches, with brutal force. The rains lash at the windows, like hungry hyenas. Your world doesn't seem peaceful at all.
And yet, you pull on your coat and walking shoes, or your runners, and you head out into the wild world anyway.
Following a trail, well-worn by the shoes of others, you brave the torrents. It's too windy for an umbrella, so you wear a hat that protects your face, and pull the hood up over your head.
Your feet beat down on that path, with determination, and maybe a little sense of escape. Lord knows, you've been cooped up for so long, you need this break, despite the curly weather.
You round a bend, and then another, all the while the trees thicken around you. It's not really the time to go out in a gale, especially with all these trees!
No-one is in sight. No-one else is brave, or desperate, enough to be out in this.
And yet, that wind seems to blow the cobwebs right out of your head. You feel alive again! Every cell of your body is pumping iron, and you feel it's life-force speeding through your veins, arteries and capillaries. It goes to the very end of your fingers and toes, buzzing like a drug.
You don't know where you're going, you're just going, and you realise that you're glad to be out. So glad to be free. Glad to be able, and grateful to be alive.
You find yourself near a clearing on one side of the path. This is a special, sacred place. The grass is such a bright green, and while looking out across the clearing, you discover that the rain stopped at some point during your walk. The wind is still blowing, but the sun has started to peek through silver and white clouds.
There's a seat, made of repurposed railway sleepers. Chunky and old, sturdy yet worn, you sit yourself down on that seat. You have time, why not lay down? Somehow, the rain missed this little spot, so you lie down on dry timber.
You bring your knees up a bit, and your back relaxes into a comfy position. Your hood and hat flop down beneath your scalp, and you look up to the sky. Blue sky.
The wind is still blowing through the tops of the young eucalypts around you, now, and making the wattle flowers bounce in the breeze.
The sun is warm on your face, and you close your eyes. It's warm on your eyelids now, too.
You feel the sun through your clothes, so the tapotement of the wind and rain during your walk is now replaced by the hot-stone effect of sunshine. You breathe in deeply, the scent of wattle filling every fibre of your being. Sigh!
Your mind has been emptied of thoughts, plans, worries, and fears, and now you hear what's real. You breathe in deeply again, and as you breathe out, the distant sound of frogs reaches your right ear. They're rejoicing in the dampness of the earth, on their far side of the clearing. They're taking advantage of the moist undergrowth of the bush nearby.
You breathe in deeply again, enjoying the scent of the wattle buds that form the natural walls to your outdoor bedroom. As you exhale, you hear the birds chirping and singing, and warbling.
What's real? Only this. Nothing else matters, in this moment. How long have you stayed here? Who knows? And who cares?
These little moments of tranquillity are all yours.
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