I came home tired the other day – flat. Feeling the pressure of all the tasks I “should” be doing. Hearing the list of responsibilities that were calling my name. The weight of obligation over pleasure or rest.
When things start to feel like this, I tend to put my head down, my blinkers on and just keep ploughing through. It’s as though there’s no time to stop and breathe – that somehow I don’t “deserve” to just yet. And life turns into a dead to-do list or a string of endless homework.
Have you ever felt a bit like that?
And then, as I unlatched the gate to home, something broke that spell. A simple flower. Or, actually, a rather complex one (the one in the photos).
The way it was just blossoming all over the place, white spilling out purple and yellow, literally brought me to my senses again.
It invited me to look closer:
• at its petals and patterns
• at this moment of light and colour and scent
• at life as it is just now.
So, in a way, it was mindfulness in action.
And that’s the thing about mindfulness. It’s nothing “special.” Yet it’s immensely potent. It can reconnect you to a sense of the sacred even in the middle of the mundane. It’s something you can tap into at any moment you like. And it can add untold fathoms of depth to even the flattest of days.