Sometimes you see yourself and it’s like you have been missing yourself. You are surprised by the reflection in the mirror.We spend so much time chasing goals. We reach one and barely stop to savor its sweetness before we begin plotting the terrain of the next mountain. There is always another mountain.
If you ask the right wise man he will tell you the essence of life is mountains, mountains divided by valleys, and we are all perpetual travelers.
We are essentially travelers journeying though the story of our lives; some with better roadmaps than others. Some stick to the valleys, others find a hill or even a mountain top and hug it, I am another type. I am of the tribe that climbs a mountain and surveying the view, encounters parts of the visage they cannot see. It is intolerable that the scenery is obscured by another mountain; and so begins another climb.
But there are mirror moments in life where time slows or the vibration of it changes and you pass a mirror. Reflection occurs. You see yourself.
This could, I imagine, be tragic. But it could also be a beautiful, humbling, ephifany. A tender moment of fragile clarity in which you are appreciative of the moment. The texture and sound filled second in which you realize you are where you should be, doing what you should. You are doing it well; to the best of your ability. You are in tune with the rhythm of the thing. It is singing for you and you are dancing beautifully.
In these moments you understand the wealth of just being. You are with your purpose and your purpose is good. You are turning with the universe and it is smiling on you. You are alive and doing fine. If tomorrow never comes this moment is a fitting signature to a life well done.
If tomorrow does come you may find yourself lost again in the rush to another mountain or stumbling in a valley between mountain. Try to remember the moments when you are rich beyond measure; even with an empty belly, tend a full heart. Be thankful for valleys for without them there are no mountains.
If you are right with yourself your pockets will always be full of cowrie in sun or in rain, in the valley, clinging to the side, or straddling the top of the mountain.
I got a pocket full of cowrie.