To sit on a bench for an entire day and listen to the birds, watch the squirrels, and smell lilacs or roses nearby certainly seems like a wonderful idea. Surely enough you might enjoy the soothing shades of greens and yellows of the plants or the blue and white of the sky puffed with fluffy pillows. The sound of the gravel trail crunching beneath the feet of other travelers as they make their way past your fortress of meditation. You watch as a brown squirrel with a bushy tail comes down a large oak tree and begins digging at some unknown treasure in the ground before he notices you and states at you with his eyes while twitching his little nose. He runs back up his tree and you begin to wish that you could join him there.
And then you begin to wonder what it would be like if you could join him but you always come back to the thought, the realization, the sudden awakening that you can’t join him and never will and are stuck on the ground as a human. Not a squirrel, or a bird, or a plant. But a human. And so you begin to reach the neighboring land of boredom.
And you stand up and leave with the gravel crunching beneath your feet and it’s not even noon yet.