Winter meditation

27/06/07

On the cold, wet winter’s afternoon, the city was as usual busy, impatient and noisy. Crowds hurried along footpaths, wanting only to be out of the chilly discomfort of the street, safe in the dry warmth of shops, arcades and even the underground. I was part of the crowd and yet alone, remaining an outsider. Shop assistants served me, their faces blank, seeming to both see and not see me at the same moment. I felt myself again an outsider, only this time, invisible as well.

Shop windows, bright with light, overflowing with colourful attractions, left me unmoved. No longer did the lure of new possession bring any sense of satisfaction. How empty I felt having so much and yet so little. I turned for the train and home. An idea dawned. I would alight one station before my destination and enjoy walking the intervening distance. The thought gave rise to a glimmer of anticipation.

Rain sprinkled lightly on my umbrella as I crossed the busy road outside the station and sought the quiet back streets as my route home. At the very least, that would diminish the unwanted noise of traffic. A sense of quietude began to soften my hardened resistance to an unfeeling world. Newly wet and shiny grass yielded to my tread. My steady pace was like a metronome calling my mind’s disrupted rhythms to beat with it. I was coming together.

Children were emerging from the local school, their usual noisy cheerfulness seemingly dampened by the misty ambience. Two young girls clung together under a battered red umbrella singing happily as they walked, enjoying their spontaneous intimacy. I smiled, recalling my own school days and carefree friendship freely offered, easily accepted. Without warning, a car pulled up alongside them. One girl shrieked happily, “Daddy!” She left her friend quickly and got in the car. Her friend, caught unawares, called hopefully, “Can I come too?” but the car drove away without answer and she was left alone, disappointed. I felt sad for her.

But my sadness soon dissipated. A stately deciduous tree, still bearing many yellowing leaves now mysteriously bright in the fading afternoon light, caught my eye. It stood amidst a golden carpet of fallen leaves, its branches wet and black and pointing imperiously skywards as if to some wordless truth. Its unexpected splendour held me in silent wonder, re-enchanted.

My walk continued past large old homes so much a part of the long-settled suburb. Their usual imposing presence was this time softened by the gathering gloom as heavy storm clouds lowered overhead. Their windows, usually excluding the passing stranger from their private reality, today revealed lamp-lit glimpses of cosy family interiors. How strangely English was this Australian winter atmosphere and how unlike was it to the same scene only weeks before when summer lingered long. Awareness of life’s shifting and most beautiful complexity struck me forcefully. Sheer gift…………

Hurrying on, the welcoming warmth of home within reach, I found myself aware of unexpected joy. I was no longer empty.

Indoors, rain began thrumming on the skylight.