When life starts falling out of my hands and my mind, I walk outside and sit in my backyard.
I stare at the sky as it never fails me with its spellbinding beauty and magical silence. I feel tiny in its presence but visible and protected. A few jet streams always criss-cross in its abundance, marking my own fears and doubts – ultimately dissolving in the bigger scheme of things.
My favorite tree in the yard,Buddha, always moves when I look at it. It is our inherent way of speaking to each other. While everyone else can manage to misunderstand me; Buddha always reflects my state of mind; my turbulence and my attempts to letting it go. I watch the spread out wings of its leaves, some almost touching the ground forming a staircase for my thoughts to descend, stretch and then take their own road and go away.
After a few minutes or perhaps sometimes more, I am restored.