The house is quiet and this morning I find myself
gratefully curled up with a book. Physically confined to a love seat, my legs wind
themselves beneath me willingly. After the bustle of some family visiting, today
I love hearing only my own thoughts sprinkled into the gentle sounds of wind,
the distant calls of birds, and the predictable motor of the fridge.
What is this longing for solitude? Perhaps we know
instinctively we must slip away from the crowds and find that sacred space
within your own heart.
In the afternoon, I have the luxury of a ride on my bicycle. I have no one
to meet, no destination demanding my arrival. I am in no hurry. The pavement becomes my
playground and I say a quick prayer as tiny lizards run for their lives.
Beneath my helmet, my thinking
mind is watching for some of my favorites: hawk, eagle, and sunshine. Today I
feel as though I have hit the Mother Nature Lode. I see two hawks—their tenuous privacy disturbed by my unanticipated
arrival treats me to a thrill as I pause and become silent witness to their flight.
Standing there with my bike between my legs I remember a
line I wrote to go with some nature photos: The
innocence of your authenticity touches my soul. It is so true. Nature reminds
us who we really are.
Thich
Nhat Hanh said “Feelings, whether of compassion or irritation, should be
welcomed, recognized, and treated on an absolutely equal basis; because both
are ourselves. The tangerine I am eating is me. The mustard greens I am
planting are me. I plant with all my heart and mind. I clean this teapot with
the kind of attention I would have were I giving the baby Buddha or Jesus a
bath. Nothing should be treated more carefully than anything else. In
mindfulness, compassion, irritation, mustard green plant, and teapot are all sacred.”
Oh,
were it true that I welcome all with mindfulness! Far too often I am to be
found dancing the jig with all the logical reasons this is inferior or superior
to that. At those times, I may be looking with my eyes and listening with my
ears but my heart must be on vacation.
But
here, now, I stop my ride and welcome a loss of self-centeredness that
occurs easily looking up into this tree and seeing this
eagle.
Eagle posing against that blue sky—seeing nature in it’s innocence—my thinking mind slows down enough for me to feel my own. I mean really feel it....
What
happened to the ghostly (and ghastly) ruminations of “she said this” and “he did that” which had been
robbing me of peace of mind just this morning? Where did the worry of daily life go? Has all I needed to do been
suddenly done?
I could feel my own heart beating in my chest. I noticed the sun warming my skin. I gave thanks for the gentle breeze helping to keep me cool.
Something happens when you are fully present to your own life. You are bathing the baby Jesus. You are serving the Buddha tea.
Present to your own life, you are the sky, the tree—and for this moment in time—truly free.
