In The Zen

I get riled up really easily at work. Actually, I guess it's safe to say that I get riled up pretty easily anywhere. I can go off on tangents in a huff and let off steam quickly from a small comment made elsewhere. When it happens at work, I remind myself (aloud, to my coworkers) that I need to "get back in the zen" as I sit slowly on my exercise ball and exhale loudly. Yesterday I felt so stressed and my mind was thinking too much that I wanted to go straight home after work, which I hated because the day was so perfect. When I got off at my stop, I was, as always, in front of Central Park. THAT is The Zen, I figured.

Right there at 103 St I walked into a leafy greenery, down a short trail to a pond. I went immediately down to the edge of a water, found a big rock under a tree, and sat down.



For one hour I smelled the still, mossy pond, listened to the rustling grass, and watched the koi fish occasionally surface to open their slimy rubbery mouths and go under again in a synchronized swim leaving nothing but a small ripple on the surface.



Totally in the zen, in the mini Central Forest.

And because I was harrassed for taking my half-faced emo pictures, here's one with my whole radiating noodle atop my shoulders



The sun was out and the breeze was warm. Being lost under the trees, on my rock at the river felt like a storybook description of a childhood memory. I couldn't get enough of sitting there in the stillness, alone with my thoughts.