COMING TO OUR SENSES

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It is another overcast day.  The greyness wraps itself around my shoulders.  It seeps through my pores, clouding me, slowing me.  I do not let it drag me down.  I hear the traffic whooshing down Preston Avenue.  Life is busy as usual and I must move with it, however I can, as best as I can.

It’s a good time to get into the moment, this moment, the present moment.  I have been listening to Jon Kabat-Zinn, a professor of medicine, an expert on stress and mindfulness.  Something he said in his book, Coming to Our Senses, twigged something within me.  We have the five senses of seeing, hearing, tasting, smelling, and touching.  But how aware are we of them?

I often turn a blind eye to many things, a deaf ear to the sounds around me.  I try not to feel, afraid of the unknown.  I eat to fill my stomach, not savoring or discerning the different tastes of food.  My nose wakes up only to the pungent odours.  I am ‘out to lunch’ too much.

On this day, I am coming back to my senses.  I am trying to come back home to me.  I am staying here to feel the grey.  It does not hurt me.  I see the sun trying to come through the layers of grey.  All is well with the universe.  I stay here in this moment, to feel the wind on my cheek, to smell the fragrance of the rose, to hear the birds sing and to taste the raindrops on my tongue.

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