What matters?

Life is full of incongruities. Order and chaos unite, not separate. Nature and structure is one and the same. We can walk among the trees or we can take a different path. We can toil or we can tether ourselves to the passage of others. It may be the journey that counts but there is no stipulation as to what journey. Each to their own. Each seeks the shade from different foliage and rests momentarily against their own place in the forest. Or we can choose to stay. While you are here, listen to the raindrops on the canopy above and the murmur of running water at your feet. This is where life is. This is where you are. Be at rest for just a moment. Just a moment.

December

Monsoon season has arrived. We all become rain watchers. BOM radar tells us where it is and how much, the anvils tower over the landscape, flashes of light creep across the clouds, and the sky goes through its borborygmus convulsions, sending children and dogs scurrying, uniting in safety under the dining room table.
I find peace in the rain. It's gentle disturbance is hypnotic, calming and spoken silently. The monsoon whispers, tempering the air and shedding its life blood to the waiting forests. The sheer heaviness of the air compresses the color into tones and textures so intense, one can only stand with effort, breathe with difficulty and walk with a lumbering cadence.
Bring on the rain.