Sitting on my porch swing I marvel at the beautiful Maui sunset. I know that the turning of daylight to complete darkness is very short in Hawaii’s latitudes. That’s why I left my dinner preparation and hurried outside.
While observing the colors as they change from light blue to yellow into a faint pink, I am so grateful to be aware of this Now Moment witnessing the spectacle of this perfectly clear nightfall.
My day was filled with housework. I was demounting the Christmas tree and cleaning all the ornaments and candle holders. Yes, we put real candles on our tree like in the good old childhood days. The live tree was a bit messy, losing its needles, with the dripping wax from the candles added to it. After my son helped me put the tree outside, I vacuumed before putting the furniture back in its usual place. As it always is when starting to clean, I see more dirt the closer I look. Therefore, I ended up cleaning almost all day including doing some washing, ironing, and dusting. There were moments when I was quite irritated thinking that I’d much rather be at the beach.
Nevertheless, now, sitting on my porch enjoying this end of the day, knowing that I have a clean house and the chore of putting up the Christmas stuff is over, I feel my day was most rewarding.
Practicing being in the Now Moment for quite some years, I realized how much I appreciate this very moment. This is it, totally enjoying only one thing: NOW.
The colors change fast, moving into a darker blue, into a bright volcano red, then a glowing yellow gold. The transition is so subtle, so fine. I like to paint these sunset colors, but I am never happy with the result. I study them again. I know I will fail again. I admire the painters who are able to catch these moments and make them last.
I swing ever so gently in my rocker and my eyes catch the palm tree leaves. They sway in a different rhythm than I do, as one with the gentle evening breeze. I watch these long elegantly sharp pointed leaves and suddenly begin to hear them sing. The melody contains vibrato-like parts, then a row of long deep tones, and again a short vibrato of the pinnate leaves. I am fascinated.
My thoughts get interrupted by the odor of the neighbor’s cooking. I realize how I am getting slightly annoyed by it. It was just such a perfect Now Moment. Hélas, why does it have to be disturbed? The smell gets more intense, and I wonder what they are cooking. I think, soon it will smell burned. And then – it hits me. This is in MY kitchenette. I remember that I put some leftover vegan burgers in my frying pan. Since my little countertop burner always takes so long to heat up, I thought meanwhile I would wait outside.
I hurry in just in time before the patties are completely burned and rescue them. That’s what you get from being too long in the Now Moment. How long is a Now Moment…?