As I sat quietly in the upper loft of the library, pondering my life choices, I listened to the gentle hum of people moving below. The methodical scratch of pencils and the incessant clacking of computer keys echoed slowly off the stone walls and delicately reached my waiting ears. This peaceful scene, accompanied by the warm glow of mid-morning sunshine, lulled me into a state of complacency. As I continued to sit, my worries began to fade and recede into the depths of my mind. In my newly relaxed condition, the intricacies of life softly and carefully unfolded before me. Leaving behind my worries and fears, I felt as if I had, through some miracle, transcended the bleak mortal worries of human existence and somehow reached peace.
Gazing out the large windows and down upon the sunbathed campus, I witnessed a wonder I had long overlooked. The beauty of autumn was in the air. And, I don’t mean in the “pumpkin spice latte” kind of way. When I say autumn, I am referring to the golden sheen of a sparkling world, to the crisp breeze that lovingly ruffles your hair, to the sensual dancing of leaves on the sidewalks I view from my hideaway. This time of year, a favorite for many, had finally registered in my mind. It was as if the cobwebs of stress and worry had been cleared away by the shimmering scene. I began to slowly meld with the view in front of me, the thrum of human life fading from my ears. Although from my location I could not hear the wind stirring the fragile leaves, it was as though I could, as though I myself were one of those delicate travelers soaring proudly through the air and landing gently on the soft awaiting grass.
To feel the warmness of the sun mixed with the chill of the air, to glide through the peacefulness of fall, to bask in the glory of November, I was in total bliss. But, as I ruminated on my bliss, I came to another realization. Autumn had not started yesterday. The beauty of the season had not developed overnight. Fall had started in late September and, although the weather did not always reflect the season, I had missed a majority of its chill-infused splendor. It was this revelation that revealed my growing lack of presence in reality. I had, through the stress and demands of college, began to ignore the present in favor of transfixing my mind on the next “big assignment.” Somehow I had let myself forget the beauty of the world; I had become blind to my surroundings. In the still of the library, I had finally understood my hamartia: my fatal flaw. In working and striving for excellence in my work, I had overlooked the portion of life that makes living worthwhile. The subtle beauty of nature that lurks in every leaf, in every sunbeam, and in every breeze had, at long last, graced my once unseeing eyes. And I, in that moment, promised to never ignore its magnificence again.
