[E-Magazine]: Finding myself in very small peace

When we slow down, we can hear the gentle sound of the wind blowing through the leaves, smell the damp soil after a night rain, feel the sweet aftertaste of tea on the tip of our tongue, and see the gentle beat of our hearts...

One winter afternoon, the weather was hazy and hazy like a layer of mist gently covering the sky. Not knowing if the mist was embracing the streets or people's hearts, everything seemed lighter and softer, as if a thin veil was covering all things.

At the end of the lane, children's voices called to each other; from someone's kitchen, the sound of boiling water softly resounded; then the clang of a ceramic bowl accidentally dropped. All blended into the melody of life, simple, familiar, and full of warmth.

Sometimes, in the hustle and bustle of life, we suddenly realize that we have long lost the ability to listen to those simple sounds.

A busy day finally comes to a stop. I sit by the stone table in the middle of the garden, in front of me is a cup of steaming hot tea, in the distance is the sky at the end of the day slowly changing color. The thin smoke rises, disappearing into the sunset. Everything will pass, whether we want it or not. Suddenly, my heart sinks. Time is still the same, quietly but persistently, flowing through the folds of life, like a small stream flowing through moss-covered rocks. And in that rare moment of slow living, I clearly feel that every minute becomes precious, not because it is long or short, but because I am truly present in it.

When we slow down, we can hear the gentle wind blowing through the leaves, smell the damp soil after a night rain, feel the sweet aftertaste of tea on the tip of our tongue, and see the gentle beat of our heart - something that I had missed before, perhaps because I was in such a hurry.

Another year is almost over. I don’t know why but the last months of the year always have a hurried rhythm, as if time is trying to gather up all the unfinished things to prepare to close a new life cycle. Friends meet and sit down and say: “How fast, the year is almost over.” A seemingly normal sentence, but it contains so much sadness, regret and things that cannot be expressed in words.

This year, everything is different for me. There are turns that make people feel uncertain for a long time. There are unexpected losses that come, only then do I understand more deeply what “impermanence” is. There are also unexpected happinesses, like a ray of light that shines right at the moment when I think I am exhausted. There are days that drag on endlessly, that seem impossible to get through. But then time, with its inherent gentleness and determination, gathers them together and stores them in memory.

Since having a baby, my time has shrunk. The rare free afternoons and football matches with my brothers have gradually become less frequent. Occasionally, the captain texted and asked: “Why haven’t we seen each other for so long?”. I just smiled gently, looking at the sleeping child with its tiny hand resting lightly on my chest. Strangely, amidst the things that were taken away, I found a very different peace, small, but profound and full.

After a loss, perhaps everyone learns to return to themselves. Me too. During the days when my heart ached so much that I thought I couldn’t breathe, I realized that the only thing I could do was to practice letting go. Practice accepting. Practice breathing slowly. And when my heart felt lighter, I felt the world seemed to be gentler with me.

Every morning when I wake up, the first light of day seeps through the crack in the door; the sound of my child giggling under the blanket; the faint smell of coffee from the kitchen; the sound of the neighbor's broom sweeping the leaves in the yard... All of these suddenly become gifts that I used to take for granted. But now, I see how precious they are.

Live mindfully. Live with all your senses and soul. To see the beauty in each changing leaf, in each drop of water on the steps, or in the eyes of a stranger passing by and suddenly feel strangely sympathetic. To know that in the midst of the hustle and bustle of life, we can still keep for ourselves a piece of peace, no matter how small.

A quiet and thoughtful winter afternoon. I realized that happiness is not about how much we have, but how much we feel. It is not far away, not something big. Happiness lies in a cup of hot tea, in a peaceful breath, in the laughter of my children every morning, and in the peace of my heart.

And sometimes, happiness is the moment we sit down, in the middle of a silver winter afternoon, and smile to ourselves.

Content: Le Ngoc Son

Photo: Internet Document

Graphics: Mai Huyen

Source: https://baothanhhoa.vn/e-magazine-thay-minh-trong-nhung-binh-yen-rat-nho-269989.htm