Grateful 26 Mar: Senses (2)

I wrote about 3 of the 5 senses yesterday, and today I found myself naturally completing the rest - alongside a deeper awareness of mindfulness. Not because I felt the need to finish the list, but more because the day itself presented the opportunity to do so. 

• Mindfulness. These 2 days, I surprised myself by being able to meditate for more than 30 minutes. To be honest, time isn’t something I aim for when I meditate - in fact, there have been days where I struggled to stay focused for even 10 minutes. But the past two days felt different. Perhaps I was more rested, or perhaps my mind was simply less preoccupied. At some point, I settled into a deeper state where everything felt very still - almost like falling into an empty space. “Nothing” is probably the closest word I have for it. It didn’t feel forced, and I didn’t have to try too hard to stay there. I came out of it feeling light, almost floaty, and very calm. A quiet reminder that sometimes, the mind settles when I simply allow it to. I am grateful for that. 

• Hear. I started meditating around June or July last year, and it has since become a practice I do every morning before breakfast. Part of it involves tuning into the sounds around me. When I close my eyes and let go of sight, everything I hear becomes more pronounced. And this is where the richness of what would otherwise be background noise comes to the fore - birds chirping, cars in the distance, babies crying, people talking on the phone, someone sweeping the walkway downstairs. All of it happening at once, in that same moment. Nothing special, just daily life unfolding. Yet when I pay attention, these ordinary sounds take on a different quality. They anchor me to the present and remind me that life is always happening, even when I am not consciously noticing it. I am grateful for these moments of awareness. 

• Feel/ Touch. Today brought a gentle awareness of my body through simple experiences such as the feel of the breeze on my body when I meditate, the heat of the sun, or even the prick of a needle. While at MacRitchie for my afternoon walk, I took the opportunity to lie on the ground and simply sun myself. The heat was at times scorching but still tolerable, softened by the occasional clouds passing by. Having grown up by the beach, this feeling is familiar, enjoyable even. I went for my blood test after my walk. The sensation of the needle piercing the skin was brief, almost insignificant. It was a sensation that I anticipated. The whole experience reinforced the notion that it was not about the pain or discomfort. Rather, it was about being connected to the present through the body. Even these small moments are reminders that I am alive, aware, and responsive. I am grateful for that. 

Bringing these reflections together, I am reminded that my senses are not just functional - they are ways of being present, and also quiet gateways to memory. The warmth of the sun, the layering of everyday sounds, even the stillness of the mind - each holds traces of past experiences, resurfacing in the present moment. There is nothing particularly extraordinary about any of this, and perhaps that is the point. When I pay attention, the ordinary not only feels quietly rich, but also deeply familiar. And for that, I am grateful.