Moon in my window,Odd that those lyrics would come to mind.
Going oh so slow,
Are you giving lessons?
Thank you, but I know.
I was sitting on the patio on an unusually hot and humid December day in Melaque. Yesterday, in fact. My goal was to machete my way through a two month stack of The Economist that had accumulated on my recent travels.
Who knows what caught my attention? Certainly nothing flashy. There is nothing flashy on the west wall of the garden. A couple of clay sculptures and three sconces. All blending in with the wall's new terra cotta coat.
Maybe that was all that it took. A moment of synchronicity. There was no moon in my window. But there was a sun on the wall. Its face shading from light to dark as the non-symbolic sun filtered through a palm frond.
Reflected light. The same light that highlights the rabbit on the moon was now lighting the sun's face on the wall. And bit by bit, the sun moved as if writing a lesson I forget too often.
The cycle would finish without rushing. While I, at my table of western magazines, was setting up a phony goal -- to get everything read. And then what? There would be another pile before long. And the cycle would continue.
When I wander off on my journeys, I too easily forget the contentment that comes from the slow cycle of retirement. Taking time to enjoy the company of people. Or the moment to truly enjoy what I am reading rather than hurtling through it as if it were my daily assignment for Contracts 101.
I have been feeling a bit restless this last week. As if something is not quite meshing in my life -- or that I am not meshing with something in my life.
For a few days, I thought it was the antihistamine (which is also used an an anti-anxiety drug) that had me out of sorts. It may have been a minor contributing factor. But there is something else going on.
And I am not certain what it is -- as if there is some mission I should be on. That I am not adding my weight to the rope pull.
Usually, I would claim that I am content where I am. But that is not true right now. Not today. Not this past week.
Maybe I need to watch that face on the east wall a bit more. He seems wise in his patience.