By Sahana Rudra
There is a light within me that grows when I’m with my sweet dog when I’m writing or when I’m around living things. Autumn stretches her legs as I open my window, welcoming the crisp air. Autumn tells me to take my time. To pause before leaving the house to decide whether I need a jacket or not. A few more minutes to stay in the luxury of warm sheets. Autumn is exuberant Summer’s wiser sister. Every year at university showers me with more lessons and blessings. I hug my friends tightly and finally attend my lectures. As the days shorten with more crushes or assignments or nights out, the warmth of my tea echoes in the chambers of my heart.
There is time, here, to rest. To sit back and dedicate an hour, or two, or days, or a lifetime to understanding the networks that brought you here to do what makes the light inside of you grow.
The trees dance in the breeze with a rhythm I could never replicate. But, of course, it’s already within me. I imagine my dog sitting next to me or waiting for the cars to stop on the sidewalk as other people walk their dogs and wait for the cars to stop. There is something holy about this moment and I think it is everything. I am enamoured by it all. I walk slower than my normal London pace and stop to look at every flower bursting from the crack of a sidewalk. I am like the sun that gives them their life as they give me mine, our energy and molecules dancing together for all eternity.
Here, inspiration never wanes because nature has always been generous. Take a minute. Turn off your phone. Breathe into the sound of your life unfolding and blossoming beneath the crunching of the leaves under your feet as you hurry to your next destination. Breathe into the sound of silence. Let the light within you stretch beyond your physical body, and coat the entire world in one final layer of solace before the sun goes down.
Image by Ben Chen
