I spent a while by the park pond and what struck me was how still the water was.
So still that it reflected everything: the trees, the clouds, the bench across. The whole world fit on that surface and seemed even sharper than the real one.
I thought that sometimes we are like that. When we are still, when we stop stirring, we begin to reflect. Not what we want to appear to be, but what is really there. The people around us see themselves in us, and we see ourselves in them.
The water also reminded me that you do not have to move to be alive. The pond does not run like the river, does not leap like the waterfall. But it holds, it reflects, it gives the birds something to drink.
There is a way of being that is not measured in activity. It is the way of still water: the serene presence that allows things to be seen clearly.
Today I want to be a little more like that pond. Less noise, more reflection. Less doing, more holding.