Several years ago I spent two days drifting down the Mekong River from Thailand into Laos, and still it haunts me. While others huddled down with their books, ate and drank, or chatted, we found a spot in the stern. Mesmerised by life on the ancient waterway, I dared not take my eyes off its banks and streams for even a moment.
People in long narrow river boats tended crops on remote banks or nets strung across rocks. They rowed, or steered motorized river boats, between villages or paths to mountain fields. Large cargo boats passed us regularly, carrying all manner of produce and goods. Families lived in the helms. Children played sure-footed on the decks.
Unusually for me I didn't pick a book up for the entire journey. I pointed sights out to my husband or took necessary subsistence, but mostly I sat motionless soaking the experience in.
How often do we allow ourselves to truly be in the present like this, soaking in scenes and experiences that will continue to affect us years later? With iPhones, iPads, computers, and yes, even books, we allow ourselves to be distracted from our present, that is our lives, for almost every waking moment. I wonder what I will remember of the days I spent fixed to a screen of some kind in ten years time?
No comments:
Post a Comment