Living in the Moment

It was as if I were no longer sitting in the boat, floating along the Withlacoochee, but had been transported into an unseen aspect of nature herself.  No longer just a spectator, I suddenly seem to have a knowing.  I had become one with my surroundings.

          This has happened only one other time in my life.  I was in an art gallery.  I was aware of the muted whispers of other art lovers in the building, I understood the playful echo the tile floor was making as various shoe types made their way from room to room, but much more than that, I was drawn into the colors and brush strokes of each painting.

          Mona Lisa’s thoughts became mine and as she looked deep into my eyes, I understood her expression.  Starry night, by van Gogh came alive, like I had mentally gone into the painting and was now traveling through the dark regions, like some astronaut in street clothes.  It’s odd how I can now remember each painting and every adventure and at the time couldn’t wait to wander into the next room of the gallery.

          But this was different.  This was a live, flowing river.  The captain’s voice droning on in the background, as if the history of man upon the river was somehow important.  If he only knew.  If there were some way I could share with him my newfound understanding, he would be seeing his surrounding as I currently was.  The life and death struggle so real and ever present. 

          At one point there were hundreds of birds in the massive trees all around us, and yet not a sound could be heard.  They didn’t want us here, I could feel it, but it wasn’t a hostel impression I was picking up.  It was more a sadness they were feeling for our species.  They seemed very much aware of how our stupidity causes us to do harm to nature, to their environment, their food source.

          Suddenly I didn’t want to be there.  I didn’t want this newfound understanding.  I wanted this river tour to be over, to get off this boat and return to the serenity of my ignorance.  And as if thinking made it so, I found myself once again behind the wheel of my car, driving home.   I had no recollection of departing the tour, climbing back onto the rickety, wooden pier, or walking through the parking lot.  Someone had pushed the fast-forward and now here I was driving home.  How would I describe this day to anyone?  Who would believe me?  They would think I was on some drug induced trip, and maybe it was like that, I’m not sure.  I just know I was given a sneak peek into life itself, and it was overwhelming.