As the days get hotter and the temperature on the air-conditioner the most looked at figure, Sunday mornings are a time to take in the early morning calm and cool air. The thing about living in the desert is that the mornings are the best time of the day. As the sun rises a beautiful cool breeze envelopes you in stark contrast to the scorching blaze of the sun for the rest of the day. Walking barefoot on the grass this morning , feeling the cool rub of the blades between my toes, I wondered what a steady contrast a day represents. The leaves of my plants stand up straight at this hour soon to shrivel into limp forms by the afternoon as the sun proceeds on its daily journey across the skies. The gardener is the most sought after man this summer, being harassed by barrage of questions, carrying the precious plants under the trees to protect them from the onslaught of dust bearing winds and scorching sunshine during the day.
Today is a special Sunday as well; it’s Mother’s Day. If you have forgotten to wish your mother (which you probably should not have) the social media network is sure to remind you with pictures of mommy-daughter love and messages being plastered on all walls and posts. Having wished my mother and done the customary Facebook post early in the morning , I was left with little else to do to keep me engaged this Sunday morning other than this blog post. Sundays are a refreshing change from the chaos that is the rest of the week. I can savour the morning coffee a little slower taking in the smell and taste, feel the grass between my toes without having to keep an eye on the fleeting clock.
Weekdays rush by in a mad rush of deadlines, travel, unfinished to-do lists and un-returned emails. Sometimes it is so hard to keep things simple. As a bureaucrat I find myself able to manoeuvre through complex problems of administration, policy implementation, listening to public grievances ,dealing with errant staff so much easier than just being able to sit in a corner with a book and my toes curled up under me, my fingers wrapped around a coffee mug. There is always an uncertain urge to reach out to check the mobile phone just to see if it has gone silent on its own if it has not rung . Sometimes while trying to deflect my mind onto the fresh bloom of roses in the garden the mind tends to wander off onto that tender which still awaits being awarded , its infinite clauses and sub clauses fighting to take forefront over the colours of the roses in my mind.
Eventually life is about savouring the little moments of wonderment, of being able to beat the thoughts of files and note sheets in order to take in the awe and wonder of the roses at 6 AM on a summer Sunday morning. One of my favourite quotes “you are confined only by the walls you build around yourself” by Andrew Murphy makes me want to step out of the cocoons of comfort that the maze of files and government circulars bring to each day. Funnily enough the more complex the circular the more engaging it is, the more it owns you, practically taking over each pore and sense of being.
After all it is only when the safety net of the complex cocoon is cast off that the tiny moments of joy can be savoured. Just sitting and watching the bees hum in the morning, the dogs sniffing the freshly watered bushes wanting to trace the trail an adventurous mouse took in the night, listening to the whirr of the mixer in the kitchen as breakfast is prepared. It is so much harder to hold onto these tiny sights ,sounds and smells before the phone and the to-do list take over and make the day a re-run of the rest of the week.