On pausing to note and reflect on what is, here and now.

I’m sitting by the balcony window, a crepuscular blue washing over me and the window sill. It’s a little after 5pm on a February evening. It isn’t as cold this week as it was the week before. After enduring through -10 degrees, 6 degrees feels like a mild summer. A guy I crossed on the street outside was wearing a see through tee shirt and a light down jacket. As I type the words out on the keyboard, the screen tries to stand out in this spectacular blue, omnipresent light all around me. In the last few months I suddenly found myself in a place of a forced upon, chaotic, devilish pause from work, from all the ways of life and living I had known till now, from the churning, constantly moving ways of the humdrum. And all of this in a small northern European, Scandinavian city.