I Vividly Remember

I vividly remember a moment many years ago sitting on a bus somewhere in India.

I had just the clothes on my body.

And a backpack.

The hot, dusty wind was blowing in my face from beyond the grimy window.

I had already traveled through so many places.

Seen so many faces.

Temples.

Markets.

Walked so many millions of steps.

Ridden so many miles.

Standing in crowded trains.

Met monks.

Farmers.

Pilgrims.

Travelers.

Uighurs.

Tibetans.

Nepalis.

I remember this moment because I was struck by a force of utter and complete happiness.

Absolute contentment.

The perfection of all things.

It came out of nowhere.

It was very strong.

Dirty, dusty, thirsty, tired.

Without goal.

Without destination.

Away from home.

Outside of time.

Without belongings except for a few dollars and what I could carry on my back.

In that moment, I knew.

I knew that peace and contentment weren’t because of things.

Physical objects.

Belongings.

Relationships.

Money.

Acclaim.

Safety.

Security.

Certainty.

As simple as I got.

As stripped down as I became.

As much as I didn’t know anything at all.

It found me.

This peace.

This contentment.

This joy.

This absolute bliss.

And a clarity that has never left me.