the brightest rain drop

Another summer season is slowing down. I’ve mentioned the concept of seasonal tourist economy and its effects on job availability and salaries, haven’t I? Long work hours. Lots of customer service. Lots of mate rounds to keep sleepy eyes open and wilted smiles fresh.

We all started the season with eager faces and attitudes, ready and willing to put our all into our jobs. Everything was new and fun. And with my job even more so. I absolutely loved it. But now as we’re approaching the two month tick on the calendar, I’m starting to observe certain changes in moods and attitudes.

It’s interesting to see how people deal with boredom, stress and unhappiness. When routine takes over and life loses its glamour. When you allow yourself to be consumed with thoughts of past and future. Or of other places. People. And you lose the lust of the moment.

Passion. Love. Enjoyment of the little gems of everyday life.

Like climbing a tree and entering into a wonderland of glossy, succulent, red orbs hanging in clusters less than an arm’s reach from your mouth. You sit on a sturdy branch, make yourself comfortable, and then begin devouring by the handful. The day is a flawless blue; not even a whisper of a cloud between the mountain peaks. Your neighbors chirp as if celebrating the mere existence of life, as they too feast on ripe berries, leaving nothing more than the naked pit hanging from the slender stem. You can’t help smiling at the beauty of it all and a small happy chill runs up your spine. You feel at ease. You feel perfection. You feel love.

Or

Like riding a bike through a calm Patagonian night. A beach bike with high handlebars and a comfy seat, so you sit straight up. All that is missing is the basket in front with a few daisies peaking out. But it is 3 o’clock in the morning, and all good little daisies are home asleep anyway. It’s odd, you think, to see this normally traffic encrusted road completely void of rumbling motors, eye scorching exhaust fumes, abrasive honking, and wildly colorful insults. In fact the only sounds are quiet mechanical workings of the bike, wind in your hair, and the occasional territorial dog excited by your apparent invasion of private property. A quick glance up to the starry sky is enough to provoke a gasp and have you clinging to the bike for stability. The night is warm, for Bariloche, and the sky is full of uninterrupted starlight. The rhythmic pedaling motion sends your body into autopilot and your mind into a passive overdrive. You’re here, but elsewhere. Concentrated, but relaxed. It is yet another perfect moment. Like every moment. But you are aware of its beauty and magic. And that’s the difference.

Sometimes it’s all about living the moment. Loving each second and being completely immersed in whatever you may be doing. Whatever it is, it can be enjoyed. Whether it’s waiting for the bus, lounging on the beach, sitting in the tent listening to the rain coming down, flying through the trees yelling louder and louder each time, cooking pasta, cudding with mate and a loved one watching a bad movie… whatever it is, it is to be lived and loved. So if you find yourself losing your smile or grumbling about rainstorms, price inflation, traffic jams, or burnt pizza remember that attitude is contagious. The biggest change we can make is from within. Let’s live positively. Focusing not on the darkest cloud, but rather on the brightest rain drop.