In most of days, it’s the dark quiet room before Fajr.
The serenity of having breakfast in silence.
In Ramadan, it is the silence before the loud sahur.
The comfort of being alone with your thoughts.
Asking so many whys without knowing the answer.
Wondering ‘what do I miss’ about everything.
Thinking how much change has happened and will happen in few years.
Remembering one of the pages from The Art of Simple Living Shunyo Masuno :
But, there are times I would like to think the other way around.
Life is short but a long practice one.
How does knowing and living so many life dramas together with someone for 20 years considered as short?
How come longing for something for more than 20 years until it was finally granted considered as ‘brief’?
How could living a life without enough sunshine for 10 years considered as quick?
For me, It only feels short when you have done those years of long practice. When you have arrived at certain point after you have been through so many things. After you looked back, nooded and said, “What a journey it has been”.
That is the only time when it feels short.
But, those days were always long.
4.27 am post sahur for Ramadan Qodho.
A Penny for My Pensieve 