Ah…Mondays. It’s a gloomy Monday morning. In a previous life, my Mondays were never the best days to begin the week with. These days, I relive those Monday moments through the experiences of my coaching and consulting clients. The distance affords some protection. Still, it is not enough to lighten the Monday mood.
My timer had been set weeks ago for the day I relocate to Singapore. Today, on a Monday, it has begun counting down to the minutes and seconds. I have 5 days and 14 seconds, and the tick tock continues even as I write this.
A Farewell Audience
I glance at the watch that His Majesty gifted me during our farewell audience last week. “To Adrian Chan from HM and the RIGSS Family” is inscribed at the back of the watch. The goodbye is both intimate and casual, open-ended and yet strangely complete.
Count Every Moment
4 days, 23 hours, 55 minutes and 51 seconds. The timer tells me to count every moment. It reminded me of a previous watch that His Majesty gifted me. I had never worn that timepiece, because I had never received a watch from a king before. “You have to wear it!” The king had urged. Now I know why. A watch is a great reminder for me to make every moment count.
Encounter with a Spider
Outside the balcony of my Thimphu apartment, I spy a perfectly symmetrical web that a spider had spun during the night. I spray a mist of water on it so that I can admire the delicate silk work more clearly. The spider patiently obliged by staying still. I spray more mist. It adjusted itself to the unwelcome moisture. Then it decided to vacate its spot at the centre of the web.
“Here, do what you need to do while I excuse myself.”
“Thank you!” Enraptured, I continue embroidering the web with intricate pearls of droplets.
“Ok, I am done wetting your web. Can you move back now so that I can take a picture of you?”
The spider seemed to understand. It returned to its place at the centre of the web. It made its final adjustments, as if preening itself for the National Geographic shot to come.
Now the cobweb and its creator was the epitome of patient craftsmanship. The tiny droplets on the strands accentuated the intricate skill of the spider.
I tried to capture the image on my phone. It would not focus. I took out the DSLR which I am about to sell. Still no success. National Geographic will have to wait. The spider is still waiting.
I lack the macro lens to do the web justice. Or I just have terrible photography skills. Probably both.
The Countdown Continues
4 days, 23 hours, 8 minutes and 9 seconds. I am at the end of this journal piece. I think the spider has given up on me. I don’t think it needed a National Geographic spread anyway. It has done its part telling me that some beauty is best captured in one’s heart rather than on film. The former is enlightenment. The latter is vain glory.
Nearly an hour has passed by this Monday morning, my last Monday in Bhutan for this season. Who knows what the future holds. But for the here and now, the reverie and the meditation of the morning has chased the Monday blues away. Looking up, the mountains are still foggy. But I know there are blue skies awaiting behind the billowy veil.
Next Monday, in Singapore
Next Monday this time, I will be in Singapore. I’d likely have endured a busy commute to be in time for a meeting with a client. There will be no spider webs to remind me to take things slow, to treasure the moments. The clock will continue to tick, but to a different beat. “Make the moment count” … this mantra will have a more pragmatic ring to it.
I will ask myself, “Whatever happened to Monday?” I will then glance down at the watch on my wrist. And then I will remember.
