I just went outside to empty the ash bucket from the wood stove. It’s early evening and a light mist clings to the air as a storm approaches from the east. Without knowing why, I found myself transfixed for several minutes staring at nothing in particular. My eyes looked blankly at swaths of rust and honey covering the hills.
The wind growled through the trees and golden leaves trickled down like snow. They didn’t come straight down, but lingered weightless and effortless in the air.
“What does anything matter?” I wondered. It was not so much of a depressing or hopeless thought as a liberating one. Suddenly, I felt like one of the golden leaves falling aimlessly from the sky. I was not attached to anything, not even to myself. The wind whispered, “Let go. Practice non-attachment.” It kissed me on the forehead and sent me on my way.