Staring at the Sky

First of all, here's the fortnightly update on my goals:

 

1. The course: Going well, it is turning out to be an amazing experience, and I am learning new things about myself on a regular basis

2. The book: On track – I have completed almost 24000 words already (in 13 days, as a part of NaNoWriMo 2014) – I had not written so many words in years together!

3. The exercise routine – On track – have not missed even a day in the last three weeks, and I am quite proud of this

 

In summary, after a bit of a setback, I have regained momentum, and hope to keep it alive.

 

Now, for today's post, I want to talk about a recent experience, which has had quite an impact on me. As a part of the Live Your Legend course, I was required to go out in the nature, and spend some time alone, with no distractions. Anything from going to a beach to taking a walk in a forest to staring at the sky was allowed. I had to go and stare at a beautiful scene for an hour or so, and keep asking myself what my purpose in life was. And I was not expected to get any answers; it was just a way to clear up some space in my head, so that new thoughts and ideas could emerge in due course.

 

For me, the most easily accessible option was to lie down and stare at the sky. I was extremely excited about this exercise, and was looking forward to it. And then, just as I was planning to go do this, I realized that this meant I would have to do nothing for that one hour. No reading, no writing, no internet, no phone, no watch – nothing. It was as if the implications of doing this had just hit me with full force, and all I could do for a while was freak out. What if I fall asleep? How will I know when the hour is over, if I don't have a watch? What if I need to make an emergency call? What will I do staring at the sky for an hour? I found this whole concept extremely unsettling.

 

Which is when I remembered the numerous articles and blog posts I had read about the art of doing nothing, of just being, of just enjoying time without any distractions. Now, if I had a beach near by, it would have been much easier. I could have spent hours at a stretch looking at the waves, given my fascination for the sea. But staring at the sky? And that too on a clear, cloudless day? Wasn't it going to be too empty to stimulate any thoughts?

 

With some effort, I calmed myself down. I had promised myself to take this course sincerely and honestly. And if it required me to do such a thing, then I had to do it. As simple as that. So I messaged my husband, who was at work, that I was going to stare at the sky for an hour (much to his puzzlement, I imagine) and would not be available on phone. Then, I went out, found a nice place in the sun, and lied down. It took me a while to finalize the angle with which I could see the sky best. A lot of views were interrupted by some trees. I wanted a view of the vastness of the sky, so I adjusted my posture multiple times, eventually finding an ideal way to lie down. And then I just stared.

 

 

 

The vast, clear, blue, beautiful sky stretched above me in all its glory. It actually looked like a sea without waves. And soon enough, I got lost in my thoughts. I wondered what my purpose in life was. I thought about the magnitude of this universe and the insignificance of my little self in it. I saw a couple of aeroplanes flying, and wondered where they were headed. I imagined sitting in one of the aeroplanes, and looking down at the clouds. And several times, I just thought how breathtakingly beautiful the sky looked. And how silly I was being getting scared of this activity. It seemed like the most relaxed, natural way to spend some free time. An hour? I could have done it for much longer.

 

As time passed, various thoughts came and went. I even remember becoming emotional at one point and felt like crying for some reason. And then, a thought floated in my head. I felt it was quite profound. Okay, it was relatively profound, as compared to some silly ones that had been frequenting my mind during this activity. It gradually developed into an idea, and I had this sudden urge to note it down. I was not carrying a note book, of course. So I came back, opened my laptop and typed away. Here is what I wrote:

 

“I believe, that life is beautiful. But like anything else that is beautiful, the beauty of life also lies in the eyes of the beholder. If you choose to see the beauty, you will see it. If you choose to see the imperfections, you will see them too. I choose to see the beauty in life. With all its challenges, sorrows, and problems, it teaches us every moment. If you relish the learning, and decide to grow as a person, you will find peace and contentment. If you prefer to live in a vicious cycle of self-pity and blaming life and others for all your unhappiness, that is what will continue. The choice is yours.”

 

I am new at this staring-at-the-sky activity, but I did like the clarity with which this idea presented itself in my mind, under the sky, while doing nothing. So now, I have decided to experiment a little more with this process, and do this exercise more often. I will spend sometime staring at the sky every other day, and let my thoughts flow – free style. Even if I don't have a Eureka! moment, it will be time well spent in relaxation.