A Conversation With Being
I really enjoy solitude. Not as a retreat from life, but as a return to myself.
I enjoy being with my thoughts, noticing the kinds of thoughts that arrive, and sensing the vibrational frequencies they carry. I can feel where I am operating from, or receiving from, without needing to analyze it. There is something deeply fascinating about that awareness. And there is a quiet happiness that comes with it.
Because of this, I often make it my intention to remove myself from noise. And when I cannot remove myself physically, I find my center anyway. In chaotic environments, I release the need for anything external to validate a good feeling. I stop looking outward for an experience to witness joy, and instead allow the feeling to arise from within me. This has taught me that my center is always accessible.
I look forward to moments when I can spend time with myself. Moments where I am learning myself rather than improving myself. Moments where connection is vibrational rather than verbal. It is an amazing place to be, inside yourself.
Being outside deepens this experience for me. Especially on days when the temperature feels just right. Not overbearingly hot, not piercingly cold. It feels like the beginning of fall, with a gentle coolness in the air, even though it is technically winter in Pensacola.
I am sitting outside as I write this. I can feel the sun on my skin, gentle but present. I love daylight. I love what it awakens in me.
In front of me are trees dressed in yellow, brown, and amber, with hints of red woven through softer creams and greens. Palm trees stand among them, grounding the scene in contrast. It feels layered and alive.
There are birds gathered in one of the trees. A whole flock, taking up space together. They are singing. I do not know exactly what they are communicating to one another, but I know that they are. Their sound reaches me, and I receive it.
I love the idea that I am being influenced by their being in my experience. Energetically, vibrationally. Not because I am trying to interpret them, but because I am allowing myself to be affected by their presence.
As I watch them, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Gratitude that they are here. Gratitude that they are so beautiful. Gratitude that they are untouchable by my human hands, free in their expression, and generous in their existence. I feel joy simply witnessing them.
Every so often, they rise together and fly over me. As they move through the sky, they create patterns, images, and fleeting tapestries that exist only for that moment. I find myself making wishes as they pass. Sending them outward, into the birds, into the universe, without attachment.
There is a knowing in me that this experience was given to me. That witnessing them is already part of the gift. And in that knowing, I feel a quiet trust that whatever I wish for, with awareness and sincerity, is already on its way.
I am overwhelmed with gratitude. Not only for seeing this with my eyes, but for being part of an energetic exchange I do not need to fully understand. Whether consciously or unconsciously, I am in communion with what is around me.
Inside myself, I begin to pray. Not in words, but in feeling. Please let this continue. Please let the sky stay light a little longer. Let me keep admiring this vibrancy of aliveness before darkness returns.
There is something exhilarating about this awareness. Something sacred in noticing how alive everything is, and how briefly it appears in this exact form. It makes me think about the universe, about timing, about grace, about how little is required to feel deeply fulfilled.
Perhaps you have known a moment like this too. A pause where nothing needed to be fixed or understood. Where you did not need to arrive anywhere else to feel complete.
If so, maybe this is simply a reminder. That this place still exists. That you can return to it. That it has been within you longer than you remember.
In moments like this, I remember that joy does not need to be loud. Connection does not need to be complicated. And meaning does not need to be imposed.
Sometimes, it simply arrives. And we are here to witness it.
#MindfulPresence, #Solitude, #NatureMeditation
