This week I was ‘home’ for the holidays seeking a much-needed break. Lately, I have been too much in my head.
Home is a country town where small cafés, wide streets, red brick houses and old pubs are all in good order.
Slowing down is a not only possible but mandatory as soon as you enter the town limits. The best part of any visit is the unpaved roads winding you to abandoned beaches, surrounded by big trees that cast shade from the hot summer sun.
Perfect conditions for sky gazing.
I learned the ‘bliss’ of sky gazing from a young chez yogi who proclaimed adamantly that whenever calm evades you – find a tree, take a seat and look up. Marvel and wonder await.
The ritual of sky gazing can be found in the ceremony of preparation; the precise laying of beach towel to balance shade and sun. Rubbing sunscreen into skin, drifting scents to your nose signalling your brain to relax. Lastly wriggling around to get comfortable as you iron out lumps of sand with your back.
The ritual complete, I settled in becoming aware of my surroundings; the lapping of the waves against the shore, the softness of the towel, the breeze tickling my skin.
It was the sway of the trees, however that created a sparkly dance of light and clouds shifting into fantastic lifelike shapes that faded into wispy nothingness which brought me back to centre.
Finally relaxed I was suddenly all too aware of just how tightly I had been holding on, trying to master things that were not mine to control (I am sure you have been there)… as my breathing slowed, I noticed the pent-up exhaustion leaving my body, perhaps released into the plush earth below.
With Koop Island Blues softly playing, I drift into a semi-conscious state and 40 minutes later I am feeling refreshed and mentally light, more so than I have in months.
Four days later, after a few more sky gazing sessions, I was driving on the busy highway, heading back to my big city life.
Reflecting on my new state of mind, I remembered a piece of Banksy’s art I had seen early that day sagely advising – ‘if you get tired, learn to rest, not quit’.
Quite Banksy, quite.