There is no such thing that one cannot do it. This is in keeping with the habits we form. We as humans have altered our life style to make it as inharmonious as possible to the luxuries of the contemporary world, which is in fact, not all in league with the nature of man; that is a healthy lifestyle. Yes, there is much that we can do to abridge this drawback between our unhealthy life style and maintaining a healthy sound body and mind as we grow older in life.
I strongly believe that we should take the opportunity of the morning glory; this is not because that any other part of the day is inglorious, but for the fact that the morning is the most pristine part of the day. As the morning grows later into the day, so does the human activities which I must say, are detrimental in nature, all because his economic activities which are so vital to his survival in this modern world of consumerism revolves around production, transportation and the tertiary sector that all leads to an unhealthy city of heavy toxic substances that is more harmful to health than that a smoker inhales. What compounds it all the more, is that the city, we are living in is like a bowl. The lighter particles dissipate over the ridges of the surrounding mountains but the heavier ones lay drifting around the valley till the Rain Gods have mercy on our stupid souls and helps to diffuse and dissolve it, for us to yet again, to start the vicious circle of polluting it.
How do I help myself to ameliorate the affects of something that I am not in the least control of, and as far I believe, I am least involved in creating, but have to live with the consequences of it? With a simple poem of my creating.
I wake up in the morning,
With a view to cry;
Another day has broken,
Where I cannot shy.
I adorn my clothes and my helmet and take my mangy cycle for a spin up the hill, for I am fortunate to live in close vicinity of the foot hills of Shivapuri. I use the morning calm air to refresh my coagulated lungs from the previous day’s activities by bringing in the much needed oxygen that the surrounding verdure gives as these areas are some of the last bastions of greenery that the scrupulous denizens of the Kathmandu Valley have not been able to encroach upon all because it is under the sanctuary of the Nepalese military. The ride is five kilometres from home to hill which is one of the most turbulent ones where one has to navigate the treacherous roads as well as the formulae one drivers (the micro-bus drivers) each who begin their day from the early hours but ironically if you need them after eight in the evening you would have to get a fleecing taxi, try to out race each other for an extra customers not caring for either me nor others like me as I am insignificant. But, this nostalgia is broken, once I begin to leave human civilization form then the fresh air, subdues the anger and pressure of having to survive the ride till then, takes over. The gradient is any where from three to thirty five degrees that needs your legs to constantly pump away and all the while making you lungs pump in the pure air that only thick green foliage gives. Mind you, that it is a ten kilometre of not stop climb to the top that is arduous but at the same time is mind cleansing and health giving.
Having reached the pinnacles, it brings back the confidence into heart and soul, for two basic reasons; first having past the torment, fatigue and pains that you happen to overcome and the second is the spiritual feeling you get from all that nature has to offer us and by us having gone there is like a tribute that one pays to the sanctity of a religious place but here it is none hypocritical. The ride down is no longer painful on the legs but here the pain is transferred to the forearms as one needs to constantly apply pressure to the brakes or else he may navigate himself to death off the hills if he wants to take advantage of “Sir. Newton’s Universal Law of Gravitations”, but it does give your fresh mind enough time to contemplate on the days activities ahead and to plan out your agenda which is in comparison to meditating like a Buddha under a tree.
Reaching home, means a hearty breakfast all because the enzymes have been stimulated in the gut after having achieved something at the break of day. Now you are ready to encounter the day with full vigour.
Before I can end this essay which is factual and taken from my experience of my daily rising on week days, I would like you to read a poem by “William Wordsworth” titled “Written in Early Spring”.
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.
Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And 'tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure:--
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.
The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.
If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature's holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?
William Wordsworth, 1798
I hope you understand my feelings toward nature
Steven William Pitts
For my content writing activities use the contact form on this page
I strongly believe that we should take the opportunity of the morning glory; this is not because that any other part of the day is inglorious, but for the fact that the morning is the most pristine part of the day. As the morning grows later into the day, so does the human activities which I must say, are detrimental in nature, all because his economic activities which are so vital to his survival in this modern world of consumerism revolves around production, transportation and the tertiary sector that all leads to an unhealthy city of heavy toxic substances that is more harmful to health than that a smoker inhales. What compounds it all the more, is that the city, we are living in is like a bowl. The lighter particles dissipate over the ridges of the surrounding mountains but the heavier ones lay drifting around the valley till the Rain Gods have mercy on our stupid souls and helps to diffuse and dissolve it, for us to yet again, to start the vicious circle of polluting it.
How do I help myself to ameliorate the affects of something that I am not in the least control of, and as far I believe, I am least involved in creating, but have to live with the consequences of it? With a simple poem of my creating.
I wake up in the morning,
With a view to cry;
Another day has broken,
Where I cannot shy.
I adorn my clothes and my helmet and take my mangy cycle for a spin up the hill, for I am fortunate to live in close vicinity of the foot hills of Shivapuri. I use the morning calm air to refresh my coagulated lungs from the previous day’s activities by bringing in the much needed oxygen that the surrounding verdure gives as these areas are some of the last bastions of greenery that the scrupulous denizens of the Kathmandu Valley have not been able to encroach upon all because it is under the sanctuary of the Nepalese military. The ride is five kilometres from home to hill which is one of the most turbulent ones where one has to navigate the treacherous roads as well as the formulae one drivers (the micro-bus drivers) each who begin their day from the early hours but ironically if you need them after eight in the evening you would have to get a fleecing taxi, try to out race each other for an extra customers not caring for either me nor others like me as I am insignificant. But, this nostalgia is broken, once I begin to leave human civilization form then the fresh air, subdues the anger and pressure of having to survive the ride till then, takes over. The gradient is any where from three to thirty five degrees that needs your legs to constantly pump away and all the while making you lungs pump in the pure air that only thick green foliage gives. Mind you, that it is a ten kilometre of not stop climb to the top that is arduous but at the same time is mind cleansing and health giving.
Having reached the pinnacles, it brings back the confidence into heart and soul, for two basic reasons; first having past the torment, fatigue and pains that you happen to overcome and the second is the spiritual feeling you get from all that nature has to offer us and by us having gone there is like a tribute that one pays to the sanctity of a religious place but here it is none hypocritical. The ride down is no longer painful on the legs but here the pain is transferred to the forearms as one needs to constantly apply pressure to the brakes or else he may navigate himself to death off the hills if he wants to take advantage of “Sir. Newton’s Universal Law of Gravitations”, but it does give your fresh mind enough time to contemplate on the days activities ahead and to plan out your agenda which is in comparison to meditating like a Buddha under a tree.
Reaching home, means a hearty breakfast all because the enzymes have been stimulated in the gut after having achieved something at the break of day. Now you are ready to encounter the day with full vigour.
Before I can end this essay which is factual and taken from my experience of my daily rising on week days, I would like you to read a poem by “William Wordsworth” titled “Written in Early Spring”.
WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING
I HEARD a thousand blended notes,While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.
Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And 'tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure:--
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.
The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.
If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature's holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?
William Wordsworth, 1798
I hope you understand my feelings toward nature
Steven William Pitts
For my content writing activities use the contact form on this page
No comments:
Post a Comment