Watching Nature

I got tired of straining my eyes looking at the laptop and TV screen, so I decided to sit this one out by going out in the balcony and sitting on the wooden chair.

I took my phone with me, set it on the table and started to play a playlist as I became ready to stare out at the trees and the building behind it. It was refreshing to look at something other than a screen.

I immersed in the experience of nature watching. I was surprised and fascinated to see different shades of green on the trees. There was all kind of shades and when the sun shined on them, it glistened. I never observed that until now.

I thought all trees and plants had a certain type of green to it, never bothered to look that there would always be something more.

Then I notice the small birds chirping and flying from one tree to another. I never knew there were birds so small that existed. They were so cute to watch, it kind of takes my fear from birds because they are very unpredictable creatures.

It was heart warming to see these small birds flutter around the tree and drink the nectar of the pink flowers that bore from the tree.

I looked at the sky and the clouds and it were as if I was in a Pixar movie. It looked so animated which made me wonder how can this be so life like?

I started to wonder why was nature watching such a unique experience in my head? What made it so special? Why was watching and admiring nature an opportunity such a transformative experience that I had to write about.

A few few years ago, this was normal. Being in the nature, playing outside, looking at nature and admiring it was all so normal and mundane. Before I was hooked onto technology, this was the world we lived in. A world meant to be admired everyday. A world that I looked at but now can’t pay enough attention to.

While I was watching the trees, I couldn’t help but have an itch to write down all these thoughts on my laptop. I was worried about forgetting this experience and just kept replaying every thought I wanted to write about.

I realized this was wrong. This was not me being in the moment. If I had to be in the moment, I had to get rid of all these thoughts occuping my mind and just be there in the moment with nothing else but just a mind appreciating how beautiful nature is and how glad I am to be here. That’s what I did!!

I had to learn that I need not write every thought that comes to my mind and if it slips away, it is okay. If it is worth remembering and writing, it will come back to you no matter what. It’s okay to write about everything and anything but it shouldn’t come at a cost where your life revolves around recording every thought.

I forgot how much I loved watching everything around me as I sit listening to music. I had a few more moments of solace to myself when I was interrupted by my mother who then joined me.

I realised two things then, I liked being alone. I like having a lot of time to myself. I do not appreciate when people disturb my time alone.

The second thing I realized was I was glad my mother interrupted me. We shared a good conversation, talked, laughed and then just sat there in silence admiring the small birds and the city we had an opportunity to live in. I also like spending time with people I care about even if they cause a disruption to my alone time. Some great memories are often made like that, but that doesn’t mean they should do it often. I would still end up liking it and maybe wanting it more.

(Next day after nature watching)

I feel like I jinxed the nature that I admire out in my balcony because they are cutting down the trees now.

Why is it the moment I start to like this, they decide to cut it down depriving me of the simple joy of watching nature right outside? Stepping out and sitting in that balcony was how I decided to spend my time away from the screen and admire nature and the world outisde. All this was to be done in the comfort og my own house and now that was gone.

This means I won’t get to look at the small birds and hear them chirp. I won’t get to watch the sun rays glisten on the leaves. It hurts when something you like is taken from you.

My heart pains listening to the handsaw cutting through the bark. It just keeps going on and doesn’t stop. It doesn’t even pause to let my heart not be upset and get over it. It just keeps going wher and wherrrrrrr…..

It’s not a pleasant sound to hear something you like being taken away by machines. How are machines the downfall as well as the uprise to man’s kind?

There are still trees out but it doesn’t carry the charm it used to. It is not as high and as green I would like it to be but I guess it would soon be something I could get used to.

Back to the roots, a celebration.

August 19th, Sunday, 8:53 AM

( PS: Based on true events.

This whole piece was written in a drive to Abu Dhabi in a car, all handwritten. I have modified some of it a bit, but everything in this was written down in the book.

Attached at the end are the pictures of the piece I wrote in my book whilst on the drive. Do pardon me for my handwriting.

Before you all think why I chose the picture above as my feature image, it’s because I really like this picture and well it’s a celebration. I really like the song Hymn For The Weekend and it’s music video. It gave me a very good vibe just like how writing this piece did. So I felt like this captured what I felt during writing. I didn’t want to upload the classic pen and paper as my feature image, thought of doing it a different way. )

 

I have decided to go old school today. Back to the roots of writing. Back to a common man’s tool, the pen and paper.

Being so engrossed with my laptop and keyboard, I have truly forgotten how it feels to hold a pen in my hand and write what flows from my mind into a book filled with blank pages.

This idea quickly sprung upon me when my father decided to take myself and my mom to Abu Dhabi. a 2 hour drive.

Staring out to the buildings, the views of the sand and the watching the buildings rise up to the sky with the sunlight gleaming on them, looking at the whole of skyline in the comforts of my car. Looking at all those above views, I was pretty sure somewhere in my mind, I would be buzzing and itching to write something. I could have noted it all down in the notes section of my phone but I would loose the previlge of writing with a pen in my hand and I would have lost the opportunity to loose myself into the process of writing on this wonderful inspirational drive.

Before embarking on this drive, I was in the comfort of my sofa/bed watching a wonderful heartwarming movie, ” You’ve got mail.” A movie filled with simple yet charmatistic mentalities. Words, humorous personas, encounters and last but not the lease, the profounding quotes spoken by the characters. This played a role behind the inspiration today. ” To go back to the roots. ”

Now, as I am writing, I am in the comfort of the backseat of my car, writing with a pen in my book listenting to the businnes breakfast 103.8 reflecting on my surroundings and everything around me.

If this was my laptop, the grammarly softwarre embedded would have been correcting everything forcing my brain not to even apply the basic rules of grammar, spelling and work into what I write. During this process, my brain is forced but with a gentle push and nudge to apply the basic rules into what I write.

I forgot what this felt like. It is a nice yet overwheming feeling having a pen to pen down all my thoughts into a book. I still could have chosen the later option of noting it down in the notes app but why did I decide to do this? Why in the car whilst going on a drive?

Perhaps I was looking for an inspiration. Probably I needed an execuse to detach myself from my laptop. Maybe I needed this to remind this experience to remind me of the beauties and wonder of the feeling I once had, the feeling of writing using my pen and paper. It felt warm and nice to be reminded of that long last feeling and the joys that it gave me.

As I look out from the small window of the car, I see skycrapers all around me on one side and construction work on the other.  Conversations spark in the car about various topics of disucussion including myself. I sense discomfort in the air and I am quick and wise to go and seek the comfort of my penship because it feels safe.

The world and everything in it is changing.  I feel happy looking at it, my home for 18 years. Then, I feel a trail of sadness looking at it. The thought of leaving it could be the reason. The thought of leaving my family and friends upsets me, but then there is an excitement to return back but also follows the dread of leaving my mom, dad and friends behind. It’s a conflicting feeling.

Changes are different and hard to grasp and believe. Even the slightest move in my world affects me. It’s hard to describe my feelings to to change, that concept is a baffling one for me. It’s for the good and bad, like many of the other things I know. I simply cannot grasp and get hold of how I feel towards it.

To describe how I feel towards it, I have stringed down together a few words that I think could capture my views.

Like the waves of the sea behave, up and down, high and low, strong or mellow;

Like the wind, easy and breezy, cold or warm, harsh or soft, destruction or mellow;

Like that, I change my views and feels to the emodiment of change.

There is another quote as well that reflects a part of what I feel towards change. A quote from the movie You’ve got mail.

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I am glad I took upon the experience of writing this down with my pen in my book. I am happy that I was able to take a quick descison just before leaving for the drive, to take my pen and book. It felt absoultely joyous and warm to head back to the roots, where the process of writing took place.

Once in a while, I think we should all go back to the roots of writing. It gives you a nice sense of feeling.

( PS: Of course however I wish there was a machine that could just copy my writing into what I am writing right now, it’s complicated, because I kind of find it a menace to write the whole thing over in my laptop again but this was worth it. )

My mind and the thought process of it are overflowing with numerous thoughts, but for some reason, I can’t seem to write them down. The irony of it all. I have a pen, I have a book and I have the words. Then why can’t I?

I look outside, the commentary in the radio is interesting but I want my eyes and brain to rest for a while. I look outside and I can myself drown in the drowsiness of my weary and tired self.

I feel like a writer now. A writer in search for words and stories. A writer in touch and connect with one’s self. A writer with a mind keen to write.

This feels like something out of the movies. A movie where a lost writer goes out to a new place in search for inspiration and stories to write or is in search for his lost identitiy or set on a path to discover something.

I am starring in that movie right now, my own life, a movie, but I don’t know what I am searching for. I am on a car ride going to a place, far away from where I live. I am in a car simply enjoying what I am doing right now, writing with a pen in the paper.

Farewell for now.

 

( As promised, here lies the pictures of the piece in the book I have wrote.)