It was just past sunset, the time when a hush seems to descend on the world. Like nesting birds, people had returned to the sanctuary of their homes ready for repose. The normally busy intersection now had little traffic. I was waiting for the signal to change which had turned red to allow the lone jogger to cross the road. The broad avenue I was on had a divider in the middle and was lined with trees along the median so you could not see the traffic on the other side. In addition, the road cut through a hill and on either side, you just saw the slope of the hill. You felt you were on some country road even though you were just moments away from houses and busy shops. When the signal turned green, I charged ahead accelerating smoothly along the beautiful road. With no one ahead of me, it was as if I had the whole road to myself. In the fading light and cooling air, with the windows down, as I sped up, I felt a satisfying thrill and broke into a wide smile.
As I look back on this, I wonder what was really special about it. Now and then, some ordinary experiences stand out in our memory. There are others that seem to provide for repeated thrills. For example, every time I am on a plane trip, I find the take-off exhilarating. If you fly frequently, you would think that the thrill would wear off. But I always look forward to it, savouring the calm as the plane waits for its turn to use the runway, and the rapid run up to take-off that follows. I am captivated by the thrust of the massive engines as they accelerate the plane from the top of the runway, giving it the necessary momentum and lift to fly. And as the speed increases and the noise intensifies into a roar, with the scenery a blur, I wait excitedly for the moment when nose lifts up and the next when, wonder of wonders, the whole plane is clearing the nearby buildings in its ascent. Up in the air, you barely feel the movement, but on the ground it is altogether different.
It is really not necessary to be moving physically to enjoy the thrill of rapid descent or dizzying motion. I remember the many times when I used to wait for the local train in Bombay. There is a tremendous feeling you get when you stand on the platform and an express train thunders along the tracks passing you by at full speed. The sudden rush of wind and the overwhelming noise of the train would envelop me and give me goosebumps. For the next few seconds, the platform, the other people, and the shops - all would disappear and I would lose myself in the scene as the train sped past me in a blur with the distinct fading sound of the whistle. Even now, I can close my eyes, imagine myself on the platform, and recall the experience.
We can be fooled to believe we are moving while remaining stationary. A simulation of motion is enough to create the sensation of actual motion. When we watch a movie on an IMAX screen, it is as though we are ourselves on the scene. I once saw a film about fighter jets which included actual footage recorded from the cockpit of the famed Blue Angels of the US Navy. I felt as if I was actually sitting in the cockpit feeling quite a thrilling sensation of flying. I marvelled at the skill of the pilot as he executed steep climbs, sudden dives and 360 degree turns and simultaneously at the ability of my mind to share the experience so vividly. If it gets too real and scary, one can always close one's eyes and make everything stop. It is like a dream that you enter and exit at will.
I believe that the thrill and joy in the above have less to do with relative motion - real or simulated - than with our own mood. The mind is a wonderful thing. At certain moments, it lets go of all regrets about the past and anxiety over the future and totally dissolves in the present, enjoying spontaneous joy. Sometimes an external event manages to trigger this. A roller-coaster ride subjects us to twists and turns and multiple g-forces obliterating all other things from our mind momentarily. At other times, as in the case of the IMAX film, we willingly set aside those worries and open ourselves up. Can we achieve this even without such external stimuli, in ordinary moments? I want to say, 'Yes'. I think we can, if we are alive to the environment fully. We can then find joy in everyday experiences. Perhaps this is what is meant by 'living in the moment'.
The other day I was in the park enjoying a relaxing walk when I saw this beautiful golden retriever sprinting across the length of the park, back and forth at full gallop. As he passed me, I caught the expression of absolute joy in his eyes that was so infectious that instantaneously I too was transported. Suddenly, the grass turned a most verdant shade, the breeze had this healing cool touch and the sunlight planted a golden kiss on everything it touched. It was a rapturous moment. I stood there for a few minutes watching the dog and sharing in his happiness. I wondered which was the greater gift - the ability to share in another's joy or the ability to spread joy.
As I look back on this, I wonder what was really special about it. Now and then, some ordinary experiences stand out in our memory. There are others that seem to provide for repeated thrills. For example, every time I am on a plane trip, I find the take-off exhilarating. If you fly frequently, you would think that the thrill would wear off. But I always look forward to it, savouring the calm as the plane waits for its turn to use the runway, and the rapid run up to take-off that follows. I am captivated by the thrust of the massive engines as they accelerate the plane from the top of the runway, giving it the necessary momentum and lift to fly. And as the speed increases and the noise intensifies into a roar, with the scenery a blur, I wait excitedly for the moment when nose lifts up and the next when, wonder of wonders, the whole plane is clearing the nearby buildings in its ascent. Up in the air, you barely feel the movement, but on the ground it is altogether different.
It is really not necessary to be moving physically to enjoy the thrill of rapid descent or dizzying motion. I remember the many times when I used to wait for the local train in Bombay. There is a tremendous feeling you get when you stand on the platform and an express train thunders along the tracks passing you by at full speed. The sudden rush of wind and the overwhelming noise of the train would envelop me and give me goosebumps. For the next few seconds, the platform, the other people, and the shops - all would disappear and I would lose myself in the scene as the train sped past me in a blur with the distinct fading sound of the whistle. Even now, I can close my eyes, imagine myself on the platform, and recall the experience.
We can be fooled to believe we are moving while remaining stationary. A simulation of motion is enough to create the sensation of actual motion. When we watch a movie on an IMAX screen, it is as though we are ourselves on the scene. I once saw a film about fighter jets which included actual footage recorded from the cockpit of the famed Blue Angels of the US Navy. I felt as if I was actually sitting in the cockpit feeling quite a thrilling sensation of flying. I marvelled at the skill of the pilot as he executed steep climbs, sudden dives and 360 degree turns and simultaneously at the ability of my mind to share the experience so vividly. If it gets too real and scary, one can always close one's eyes and make everything stop. It is like a dream that you enter and exit at will.
I believe that the thrill and joy in the above have less to do with relative motion - real or simulated - than with our own mood. The mind is a wonderful thing. At certain moments, it lets go of all regrets about the past and anxiety over the future and totally dissolves in the present, enjoying spontaneous joy. Sometimes an external event manages to trigger this. A roller-coaster ride subjects us to twists and turns and multiple g-forces obliterating all other things from our mind momentarily. At other times, as in the case of the IMAX film, we willingly set aside those worries and open ourselves up. Can we achieve this even without such external stimuli, in ordinary moments? I want to say, 'Yes'. I think we can, if we are alive to the environment fully. We can then find joy in everyday experiences. Perhaps this is what is meant by 'living in the moment'.
The other day I was in the park enjoying a relaxing walk when I saw this beautiful golden retriever sprinting across the length of the park, back and forth at full gallop. As he passed me, I caught the expression of absolute joy in his eyes that was so infectious that instantaneously I too was transported. Suddenly, the grass turned a most verdant shade, the breeze had this healing cool touch and the sunlight planted a golden kiss on everything it touched. It was a rapturous moment. I stood there for a few minutes watching the dog and sharing in his happiness. I wondered which was the greater gift - the ability to share in another's joy or the ability to spread joy.
