As someone who pays attention to the little details in life, I am inclined to write this. Perhaps, this might not be coherent or dainty but will attempt to entail a certain part of your mental make-up called comfort. I have been thinking about this area for sometime now. What does one mean when he talks about his comfort and the zone it belongs to? Various points come to mind.
First and foremost, I feel a sense of "belonging" to this zone. There is a warm reassurance of this space and being. The mind and body suddenly relax and a goodness factor creeps in. I am not able to pen the words to this feeling exactly and, neither can I quantify it. What I can say is that I want to relate to this feeling far more than I do presently.
Secondly, this space is yours, and just yours. This again re-affirms the sense of "belonging" that I mentioned earlier. Suddenly, the fast paced world stops and your world is now limited only to this space. It is as if the mind now gets events at a much slower rate to assimilate and process. And, it does that so beautifully! I get a feeling of focus when everything else gets shut out.
Thirdly, this state is completely pre-emptive. It just comes. While reading something that inspires, while sitting in the office cubicle when everyone has left work, while travelling alone, while lying in bed, listening to music in the darkness of the night, and so on. And, it is more frequent at night when all else is quiet.
In this state, everything around you assumes a meaning, a presence that you do not notice otherwise. You feel good about the stillness of the air, the silence of sound, the absence of man, the sound of waves, the darkness of the night, stillness of water. These are moments that entails your conversation with your mind. Free of chaos, free of din, free of noise, free of people. Little things around you take precedence. Dew on a leaf, water droplets on the window, a cup of tea, green fields, last rows on an aircraft, a book, rain drops, a table lamp that lights a desk space and so forth.
It is very hard to shut one's self out from the commotion that one is subjected to. Perhaps, that is why I get pleasure from these little things. Though few and far in-between, these moments of alone-ness are rejuvinating. What if the world were full of it?
People may argue that one needs to turn into a monk to achieve this state of impasse. And, it would be impractical to be always surrounded by a bubble and not adjust to change. Perhaps, that is the point of contention itself. Are we going to be eventually embedded in this struggle, in this rat race? No wordly pleasure can match the few moments of joy the mind gets when all else has lost focus....
First and foremost, I feel a sense of "belonging" to this zone. There is a warm reassurance of this space and being. The mind and body suddenly relax and a goodness factor creeps in. I am not able to pen the words to this feeling exactly and, neither can I quantify it. What I can say is that I want to relate to this feeling far more than I do presently.
Secondly, this space is yours, and just yours. This again re-affirms the sense of "belonging" that I mentioned earlier. Suddenly, the fast paced world stops and your world is now limited only to this space. It is as if the mind now gets events at a much slower rate to assimilate and process. And, it does that so beautifully! I get a feeling of focus when everything else gets shut out.
Thirdly, this state is completely pre-emptive. It just comes. While reading something that inspires, while sitting in the office cubicle when everyone has left work, while travelling alone, while lying in bed, listening to music in the darkness of the night, and so on. And, it is more frequent at night when all else is quiet.
In this state, everything around you assumes a meaning, a presence that you do not notice otherwise. You feel good about the stillness of the air, the silence of sound, the absence of man, the sound of waves, the darkness of the night, stillness of water. These are moments that entails your conversation with your mind. Free of chaos, free of din, free of noise, free of people. Little things around you take precedence. Dew on a leaf, water droplets on the window, a cup of tea, green fields, last rows on an aircraft, a book, rain drops, a table lamp that lights a desk space and so forth.
It is very hard to shut one's self out from the commotion that one is subjected to. Perhaps, that is why I get pleasure from these little things. Though few and far in-between, these moments of alone-ness are rejuvinating. What if the world were full of it?
People may argue that one needs to turn into a monk to achieve this state of impasse. And, it would be impractical to be always surrounded by a bubble and not adjust to change. Perhaps, that is the point of contention itself. Are we going to be eventually embedded in this struggle, in this rat race? No wordly pleasure can match the few moments of joy the mind gets when all else has lost focus....
