The Gift of Being Present

     One of the most amazing things I have found since I began travelling, is how important it is to be present. So often, my mind completely takes over and I get so lost in my thoughts that I completely miss the present moment. I think "wow, this is beautiful." And immediately my mind starts creating the Facebook status I'm going to write about it later, or imagining how I'm going to describe this beauty to a friend or family member at home. Meanwhile, the beauty is still all around me, but my busy mind has made me blind to it.  
But lately, I've been making a conscious effort to stay present. To truly take in the vast beauty of what I'm seeing.
In the first case, the mind knows what it's seeing is beautiful. It's an automatic response to say "this is pretty." But then it gets immediately distracted.
When I'm making an effort to be present, to still the mind and take in the beauty with the eyes of the soul, it feels completely different. The trees and the mountains are alive. My mind is still, but I can feel to the core of my being the beauty that is all around me. The beauty is reflected inside me and I know that all beings everywhere are one.
It's almost comparable to someone telling you you look nice, but the good feeling is multiplied by millions. Trillions even. Because it's not my outer appearance (which isn't truly me and will one day disappear) that is being complimented. The entire earth is complimenting everything good within me. And I KNOW it to be true! What a better feeling than looking out at this amazing, gorgeous, living, breathing planet of ours, and knowing that all of that beauty and more exists within each and every one of us, whether we realize it or not.
Often times, when my mind switches back on by force of habit, my first thought is an overwhelming urge to hug everything and everyone on this earth. I feel so connected to my fellow beings and the only way my mind can attempt to grasp this feeling is by wanting to be physically close to everything. Which of course is impossible. But imagine if everyone made a conscious effort to be present? Human destruction would cease. Killing of other sentient beings, the destruction of this amazing planet we live on. It would all stop. Because people would realize that everything out there is an extension of themselves.
I believe we have all had glimpses of this feeling, when the sheer beauty of something stops our thoughts, if only for a few seconds. Next time, try to make it last. Or create it for yourself. Any time, any place. You don't have to be overlooking snow capped mountains in northern India. You can look up at the deep blue sky on a summer day. Or allow the sheer vastness of the universe to overwhelm you on a clear night. You can find beauty in the untouched white after a fresh snowfall or in the sincere smile of a perfect stranger. But notice it. Really notice it. Feel it. Become present. Feel the earth beneath your feet and trust it to hold you. Feel the tickle of the breath on your nostrils and focus all of your attention on this moment right now. Allow yourself to receive the greatest compliment you can ever receive and relish in it, if only for a few seconds. Ain't nothing going to make your day like that. 

Expectation is the root of disappointment

About a week ago I went to a place called Dalhousie to climb the infamous Adam's Peak. The climb consists of 5800 stairs. We woke up at about 2AM and started the trek, hoping to arrive at the peak by sunrise. It is a treacherous climb. The pathway is pitch black, foggy, and infested with leaches. The stairs get extremely steep, especially near the top, and the wind is very cold and very strong. About halfway up, my friend decided to turn back. But I was under the impression that once I reached the top, all of my hard work would be rewarded with a gorgeous view of the sun rising over the hills and nearby lake. So I kept on. A few minutes after Kate turned back, I caught up with a couple of guys from Slovenia. The three of us huffed and puffed our way up the last half and arrived at the top an hour and a half before sunrise. It was only slightly above freezing at the top and the wind felt like it would tear my skin right off my bones. We found a little alcove where the force of the wind was slightly lessened and we waited.
As time progressed, more and more people arrived at the top. Eventually, the two Slovenians, three Brits and I decided to move to a little hallway we figured might give us slightly more of a reprieve from the wind pelting us with icy rain drops. The six of us hung out in that hallway for the next hour keeping each other warm with liquor and huddles. We shared stories of our travels and joked about our dire circumstances.
     Eventually, the time came for sunrise. We zipped and hooded up, and left our little hallway braving the cold for the spectacular sunrise we were sure to see. Well... We saw nothing. It was too foggy to even tell where the sun was supposed to be. Our spectacular sunrise ended up being the sky gradually, uniformly lightening while the wind tore at our clothes and faces.
     When I realized we weren't going to see anything, I had two choices. I could allow the dread that I could feel at the peripheries of my mind to take over. I could let my heart sink. I could allow disappointment to take over and leave a sour stain on everything I had so far experienced that day.
Or, I could be thankful for the experience that I had and enjoy it for exactly what it was.
     My first instinct was to be disappointed. We had come all this way, climbed all these stairs just for the view! I wanted the view! But as I felt my previous good mood melting away, I decided to take a step back and try the second option.
     The past two hours had been amazing! I had managed to keep climbing even when my muscles were screaming at me to stop. I had conquered 5800 stairs before the sun was even up. I had laughed and shared stories with people I otherwise would never have met and bonded with these same people as we huddled together to keep each other warm in the cocoon of blue fog that was stealing our sunrise.  I may not have seen the view I came for, but I had a great morning. It wasn't what I expected, but should that make it any less positive?
    Expectation is the root of disappointment. Expecting things to work out a certain way can often blind us from seeing the good in the way they do work out in reality. I'm learning to let go of expectation and be present. Suddenly, life seems so much sweeter.