In The Stillness of Time

Somehow even though I am now well past my school years I still experience fall as the beginning of a new year. The air is crisp, the leaves have yet to fall but are transforming from the sweet green of the young buds to hues of yellow, orange, red and brown. As they dry and fall they mark the end of summer and signal shorter darker days. I note how my attitude has shifted towards this change. This year I do not feel a heaviness in my chest and a sadness as I contemplate the cold and darkness of a New England winter. My perspective has, like the sun, moved as I observe the beauty of my yard and the day here now before me. Spontaneously in the stillness of the moment I write:

The sun shines clear and bright
Leaves illuminated on slender saplings
broader than three months ago.
The sun is lower in the sky today
My blanket covered me this morning
Warm and snug I curled my toes uncramping them
Placing them on the ground
Meeting the day.

Everything has a life. A beginning. And an end. I have been contemplating my end. Today I feel healthy and strong. Gratitude fills me. As I write this moment has already ended and some cells have died as new neurons are being born. It is the cycle of life. My name means tree in Hebrew and like it I hope to meet each season, soak up the sunshine while it is here, celebrate the day, put forth leaves of different shapes and colors and be rooted and strong as wind and chill separate them from my branches as winter comes.

As sunlight dapples the leaves and wind moves the branches my eyes follow and my breath is even. My body remains in one spot and is cushioned by the pillow I sit upon. My laptop is near.

Knowing I can do nothing to stop time but hoping to capture it in my mind, I reach for it, raise its cover and turn it on. Moving my fingertips over the keys I use these words as mementos. Attention shifts but my intention, to savor the moment, and experience the infinite timeliness of time remains. Within there is stillness. There is peace. I don’t wonder how long it will last. It is here now.

– Elana Rosenbaum is one of the pioneering teachers of MBSR involved in its unfolding since 1984. She is a mindfulness teacher, mentor, psychotherapist and consultant. Elana has authored a new workbook for clients and clinicians, “The Heart of Mindfulness-based Stress Reduction” as well as “Here for Now: Living Well with Cancer through Mindfulness” and “Being Well (even when you’re sick). She loves her work and bringing the gift of mindfulness to many.

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Lovely autumnal moment. Thank you for your beautiful writing and sharing.
I hope to meet you when you visit Belgium.
Kind regards,
Jane

Thank you Elana for the vicarious dappled leaves.

Thank you for this very warm sharing. As I read, I feel the chill of fall, natures steady changes as the sun dips further in an enormous, open southwestern sky.

Thank your Elana!

You are inspirational, may you continue to be inspired and share.

Cass​