This week while I was pondering what my blog post would be about, I looked at my page and saw the quote I use as my subtitle – “Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life”, and wondered if anyone had wondered why I put it there. No one has asked me, but I thought it would make a nice blog post topic, so here it is.

While I was staying at the eco-farm in Meghauli, Nepal, our host asked us to paint the inside of a long room he wanted to use as a meditation room. One day, when I came back from some early morning weeding, I found two of the other volunteers, Sajeena and Alba, sketching some designs for the room. They were both very good – they had come up with a series of mandalas and Buddhist knot designs, but needed something to link it all together. I suggested painting them as a row of tapestries, like I had seen in a monastery I had been staying in the previous week. So they had their link, and I felt pleased because I was able to contribute something.

But we also wanted a quote, a saying of some kind, that we could paint along the top of the wall, for people to read when they entered the room and also to think on when they were using the room for meditation or yoga. We came up with a long list, but the one we finally all decided on was “Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.”

The job of sketching and painting the words fell to me and I took it on with enthusiasm. Sajeena turned out to be a brilliant artist – she had even brought her own brushes – and so was Alba, and the two of them got cracking on the walls while I got on with the quote. It was a companionable few days, if uncomfortable at times, because we were working in a concrete building in summer, with fans that only worked when the power was on, and the paint fumes were sometimes overwhelming. But we had many stories to share while we worked, we had music playing, and Bishnu our host would often bring us freshly cut pineapple to snack on.

While I painted, I thought about the quote that I was copying, and it got me thinking, what does it mean by ‘this moment’? And so I took a deep breath and made a list of all things I knew at that instant. To begin with, I knew that at that moment I was in Nepal, at a farm in Meghauli, painting a mural. I knew that Sajeena and Alba were also in that room painting. I knew that there were two buffalo grazing outside, because I could see them through a window, and I knew that there was a bird singing somewhere outside, because I could hear it. I knew that it was summer, and the sky was blue, and it wasn’t raining. I knew that I was warm, almost uncomfortably, but not quite, and starting to feel a little thirsty. And I knew that the time was about 2.15 in the afternoon. And that was about it. There were other things I could make a good guess at, of course – like the fact that I had family and friends who were safe and well in their various corners of the world, and possibly missing me. That Bishnu, who had just left us saying he was going into town, was probably now on his way into town. That outside in the world people were still going to work, going home, eating, sleeping, carrying on their usual lives. But none of that I could be sure of. All I could be certain of was what I could see, hear and feel in that room, at that moment. I found it incredibly grounding.

We carried on our painting, and sometimes Sajeena’s husband Neal joined us, or Sara and Justin would join us when they returned from the health post, and Sara’s partner Edgar – and so there were seven of us in there at once, and although it was hot, and sweaty, and messy work, we had good company and the satisfaction of seeing the results as we worked. After I finished the writing, I painted the pillars, in a style something like what I saw at the monastery, and helped Sajeena finish off her tapestries. The work was satisfying and engaging – I had missed that feeling of teamwork and camaraderie while I had been traveling solo, and that week was one of my favourites in Nepal.

The night that we finished the wall, we decided to have a dress up party at the farm. You know, it’s really amazing what you can come up with when resources are limited. Sajeena used a pair of tracksuit bottoms and some gloves to build a kind of octopus on her head; Alba found some banana leaves and attached them to her clothes in the manner of Eve; Sara found a sarong and tied it up like a toga and Edgar borrowed a pair of Sara’s shorts, found a wig and a tennis racquet and called himself Kournikova. It was simple, but fun, and it’s a memory I treasure.

Since that time, I have often used that quote as a kind of meditation when I’m feeling impatient or flustered, like when I’m stuck behind a slow-moving vehicle or find myself stressing about all the things I have to do and worrying about things several steps in advance. I ask myself, what do I know, what can I be absolutely 100% sure of at this very moment? And I think about where I am, what I’m doing, all the things I can see. And there’s usually plenty of good things, even if it’s just that the sun is shining and there are flowers growing along the side of the road. I find it incredibly calming, and a great way of bringing myself back to the present moment. I challenge you to try it, the next time you find yourself losing your temper, or stuck in traffic, or in a flap about your to-do list.

And if you do, I hope you will find plenty of things to be happy about. Just as, when I was dancing and playing games in a silly outfit, in the middle of nowhere in Nepal, I looked around and reflected that this moment was indeed my life. And I was happy for it.