Walking through the world as we do, much of our surroundings are taken for granted. We move through space as though we are in charge, and yet, in the back of our minds, we know that we are nothing but a speck on a spinning earth set amid a sea of sparkling stars. We think. We act. We criticize and appreciate. We also react, and on occasion, we let go. When I say let go, I’m referring to stopping the mental chatter racing across the synapses of the brain, and to simply look. Taking a rare moment to open ourselves up to the world in this way allows for the beauty and dynamic movement of life to be realized.
A sense of awe spreads across your body because this feeling is not just a mental one, left to the confines of the brain, but it is physical, and emotional, and even metaphysical. It is similar to the grandiose feeling in which we regard the heavens, or outer space. It consumes you, pushing your logical mind to find an explanation, and your emotional heart to greedily take it all in, making it your own so that the world seems slightly more manageable. Lost in this moment of dynamic contemplation, you find yourself slightly detached. You are simply there. You are existing in the moment, and rather than acting or reacting with what’s around you, you are acutely aware of its essence – the space it takes up in the world.
Walking around tonight, I would look up toward the sky, and in the hazy evening mist, I was aware of the physical space between the top of buildings and the atmosphere above. That sounds strange, I know, but it just seemed so big. Even the area around my body, and my body’s relationship to the buildings or trees lining the road’s edge seemed different. It seemed bigger. It was like I could reach out my hand, and I would be reaching forever through this misty space. The closest experience I’ve had outside of this moment are the times I’ve been under water. I open my eyes, and the relationship between the surface, the ocean floor, and rocks scattered along the rippled sand seem distorted. I lose the understanding I have with my physical world, the one I’ve relied on since I came into this world as a child. I wonder if newborn’s experience this awesome realization of how dynamic life really is.
During m walk, I was so aware of colors, and the way shadows danced across surfaces. I watched the reflections of the 10-story apartment building in the calm waters of the pool below. The way in which the branches of the palms and bushes met the purple haze behind it seemed to yell out with a cry of ‘notice me.’ Black against a starry purple. 
The vines growing down the building’s surface seemed to pop out as though they would grab me as I walked by. I noticed every branch along the way, and even how fluidly my body maneuvered around a large metal gate obstructing our way. As I walked, I noticed the geometric designs of the tilework, and the perfect lines separating the pieces of cement. These were in such stark contrast to my body which moved organically across them, swaying, and undulating, proving once again that I am alive, and dynamic in my own right. Looking into the street lamp’s glow, I notice not only the bugs flying in frantic confusion, but the thousands of dust particles rising through the sky. This is the same air that fills my lungs with every breath I take. Can India really be this dusty, I wonder to myself. It is another moment where I am reminded that this isn’t home. It is also a moment where I realize that it is often in these experiences away from what I know, that I become cognoscente of the very act of becoming aware.
I’m not describing the feeling of being on top of the world, where pride and excitement for life leaps from the heart, making even the impossible seem possible. I’m not relating this awareness to that of spiritual enlightenment, or a moment of humble gratitude for the act of living. My senses are simply completely aware – I notice everything. I hear every note floating through the air, feel each wisp of wind and particle of dirt rolling across my body, and see detail that I’ve overlooked time and time again. I wonder what else I have missed in my lifetime without this deep and raw sense of connecting to the earth, allowing it to guide me.
Will this awareness last? Will this dynamisism continue to be the rare gem of this life, forever sought after by the philosophical and spiritual alike? The only conclusion I come to is that it is the act of stepping out of oneself, out of our thoughts and feelings about the world, and into a curious and open mind frame for experiencing time and space in physical form.
