Bruce Lee famously delivered his philosophically cunning monologue titled ‘Be like water’. By all means, be like water. Few visible matter are as malleable. However, if not up to the task, I say be at least like moss.
Moss spreads along the shady surface. It holds no pretensions or anxieties. A low maintenance, simple-celled growth, it occupies where chance beholds.
Be it soil, be it stones, be it glass, moss can occupy it. It needs no flora to reproduce. Neither does it seek much sunlight or nutrients to thrive. Moss extends vertically or horizontally. It can occupy the spaces between other even parasitic growth. A little humidity and shade are all it demands.
The Asian school of aesthetics has commodified moss as a decorative staple to both interior and exterior design. And who would question the deed? Elegant in appearance, pleasant to the touch, I can only salute the pristine simplicity.
Simplicity and low maintenance. Just the bare necessities to be perfectly happy, does that not excite? I mean not the modest, contained sort of satisfaction, but genuine happiness. It’s possible, if you look by way of exemplary role models … like the moss.
Be low maintenance. Adapt to varying weather extremities. Care not for a little discomfort all too frequently encountered. And like moss, don’t mind a bit of extra humidity and moisture.
Of what concern is it that your shoes flood to the rim? Stroll along the rain and intake the sensation. Forget that umbrella. Don’t obsess over a case of pneumonia. You’ll sooner contract a psychosomatic condition. Likewise, don’t linger under the refuge of a shop entryway, waiting for the raindrops to subside, plugged into virtual reality.
Take part in the most natural of phenomenons and really observe the course. Much marvel there is to evince precisely in the rainfall: the stream as it descends the paved slope; the puddle cozily enclosed within the asphalt cavity; a voluminous batch of liquid occupying an abandoned motorcycle helmet; drops as they settle along the foliage; the clouds of steamy fog; the misty curtain overlaying the horizon; the moist and sandy soil.
If you must make haste, mold it into an exhilarating act. Run and really feel the impact. If opportunity enables, cease a motorcycle stroll under the withering storm. Feel the amplified sensation of piercing drops and wind chill against one slender sheet of fabric.
A clear, sunny sky is but a transitory state. Be adapt like moss to any circumstance. Your being and your doing are instruments natural and independent in and of themselves. Don’t seek proper conditions - not internal, not external. Don’t count on motivation nor set humor. All are transitory. Function as you need, irrespectively.
When you do encounter a batch of moss, pause and pay respect. Much there is to be imparted from one as omnipresent and impervious.
Questions, comments? Connect.