By Kunal Mehra, Contributing Writer
Tiring work hours build up, day by day, week by week,
taking my energy and making me ponder:
How long will the work be making me weary? Where is my life going?
The wetness and chilliness of a November evening add to my list of drained feelings:
‘Why does it have to rain so much? Is it a lot to ask for some sunshine? Clouds, go away; I’m tired of you.’
I sit on the couch with a warm cup of tea, looking out the picture window, at the front yard,
annoyance, exhaustion and frustration dancing in my mind,
in an opera I never wanted to see.
A few red dogwood leaves linger on in the tree in the yard,
patiently waiting to be let go.
A cold breeze blows by, taking a leaf down and bringing it back to the earth.
I stand up and walk towards the window, looking closely at the leaf.
A few quiet seconds pass by, just like the thought in my mind:
‘This leaf has been let go.’
And I know not why, but my shoulders ease down,
as I walk back to the couch and relax amidst its warm softness,
my mind fills with one feeling: Gratitude.
‘Thank you, dogwood leaf, for reminding me about a trait I ought to cultivate more:
Letting Go.
I ought to let go of thoughts that don’t serve me.
I acknowledge that in this moment, I feel tired and drained,
but I am letting go of those thoughts, knowing that I will address them when the time is right.
Thank you, again.’
Wait…what else should I say thanks to?
I take a deep breath in and close my eyes, holding the warm cup in my soft hands.
My deep breath. My soft hands. The warm tea. The ability to drink that tea.
The job that tires me that pays for the tea, for the couch,
for the warm cozy home in which I’m relaxing, for the water, for the water boiler.
My beautiful resilient body, which is allowing ‘me’ to sit easefully on the couch,
walk from the kitchen to the living room and back,
my inquisitive mind that’s open to growth…
I keep pouring items into the cup of gratitude, until it overflows,
until I’m reminded that the choice is mine:
focus mostly on what’s not working well, or, on what I’m already blessed with;
the annoyance at the cold gray weather, or,
the warm cozy home that’s keeping me safe and healthy.
Doing the latter helps me tackle the former better,
because my mind is at ease and full of the soft blossoms of gratitude,
a fullness that helps me take better, stabler and confidence-laden actions
than if I were to react from a place of
‘I dislike this’, ‘Why don’t I have that’, ‘Why is this not working correctly?’…
The less I take for granted, the more peace gets planted.
And for all these precious gratitude-laden learnings,
I have so much more gratitude in my being.