Zen of the Toy Boat

It was a small toy boat, bobbing ever so slightly in the low tide. Like its full size cousins less than 20 yards away, it too sported its own anchor made out of a piece of dead coral, with a plastic mineral water bottle as its buoy. The hull was made out of coconut husk, and someone had meticulously shaped its cabin out of small pieces of driftwood, cut to order with small square openings on the side for windows. A red flag fashioned out of either cardboard paper or stiff cloth proudly flew on its mast. A rusty nail protuded on the bow, serving as an anchor point. It was perfect, but I had to make it more than that. Damn I wish I had a camera. I should go closer still, so that I could take it all in, every single little detail. I have to touch that red flag, because I had to find out what it was made of. In the distance, mudskippers distracted me. Then, squirrels crashing in the tree caught my attention and imagination. That perfect moment was lost, forever.

But in actual fact, it was perfect to start with, and perfect still. The frustration, the distraction, the preconceptions and values, the mind wandering and wanting more, as it always does. That too, is perfection. We have only to open our eyes... And take it all in, as it comes, moment, by perfect moment...