Adrift On a Dance of Grace and Light

Tuesday afternoons. The Lull. The vacant expanse of a slowed down moment that creeps into your day like errant rays of misplaced sunlight. They trickle in, without permission. They fall in concentrated beams, lighting up all the dust that hangs in front of your very nose, unobtrusively until that moment, otherwise invisible. There is a tree outside my office window. When I look right, i can see its green boughs dancing in the wind, like slow motion sequences from Chinese films that celebrate the grace of natural movement. I wish I could live in that kind of dalliance, adrift on that kind of dance, of grace and light. The sunlit rays that have trickled in, have found their way through the intermittent movement of those branches, and the light on my desk now dances in accordance to the will of a determined wind, that uses the boughs to interrupt the steady beams. The dust, in turn, also dances, being lit up in spurts and starts. I get so lost in it. As the light moves slowly across my afternoon, it hits the glass of water on my desk, bursting into a million particle shards, that fall like feathered dust onto the black surface of the table. They fall amidst the frenetic madness of it all, the noise, the rush, the pollution, the business, the numbers, the cheques, the accounts, the marketing, the pitch, the track, the delivery, the traffic and the silent screaming, that manages to knot the muscles of my shoulder blades. It is in the middle of all this mess, i manage to find infinite peace in that vacant expanse of a slowed down moment, as it bursts silently into the million particle shards of light, this tuesday afternoon, on my desktop.