Wherever you go, there you are – Buddhist saying.

This entire past week, all my little 7-year-old daughter could talk about was the swimming gala at school today. She counted off each day, excitedly asking; “What day is it today, Mommy?”. There was no containing nor curbing her exuberance – not even when I warned that it may rain out.

The day had scarcely dawned this morning, when she sat up in bed, pulled the curtains aside, saw the rays of glorious sunshine touching the roofs and the treetops, when she jumped out of bed, threw her arms up into the air and exclaimed: “Hooray, hooray! Swimming gala today!!!”

When her turn came, she stood by the side of the swimming pool – ready and proud. She swam as if her life depended on it… and came in last. With the temperatures here in Jozi already touching the late 20’s, I did not mind one little bit when she jumped into my arms, soaking with icy cold water, her face beaming with delight. She had done it. She had had her moment.

Later on, I was crushing some ice for a long line of kids, anxious to buy icy fruit juices at the fundraising stall, so when I looked for her, she was not with her class. I walked up through school on the path winding in the shade among magnificent trees, when I found her with her friends, skipping through the dappled rays of sunshine through the canopy of leaves. I chided her for disappearing without telling me when she said: “But I am here Mommy, and you have found me.”

Later on, I was relating the morning’s events to my neighbour and he, in turn, told me about the wonderful work his girlfriend does – she assists physically disabled people in a project to offer them horse riding lessons. They love it. The freedom of mobility it offers them, albeit momentarily, must be exhilarating.

Perchance, I also met another friend for a quick coffee and he asked me about the point of it all. Why all these lessons? Why the mind chatter that drives us to near-insanity when we simply can not see the way out nor the ready answers?

Back home, I nurture a cup of coffee on my porch and I take in my cat lazily playing on the front lawn; I observe the dappled bright sunlight through the trees of magic that will soon change into their autumn garb and I ponder all of this.

The insight flows subtly and ever so softly to me: this is where I am. My daughter was where I found her. The disabled people are disabled. My friend is on a quest for truth. Where we go is where we will be.

We may ponder and question and seek for truth. Oftentimes, we are trying far too hard. Sometimes, we just do not see the wood for the trees, because we are so inspired by our own journeys that we simply forget that we do not have to be perfect.

When we let go of that perpetual search for happiness and we become quiet within ourselves; indeed, when we come home to ourselves for even just a few moments, we recognise the beauty of the gift that is the here and now.

For that is exactly where we are.