Saturday at the Abbey. Trust yourself. I found my way to the shrine – Our Lady of Guadalupe at the top of the hill, resting among the tall firs. Something happened. I didn’t write it down. I don’t remember. If the thinking mind does not need to be involved, then it is okay that I don’t remember. I notice how much I do try to bring these awakenings to mind. Cement them. For fear of losing them. Losing the healing. How funny. Good practice. To let the memory be.
Walking down the path from the shrine, I had an interesting experience of awareness and presence. Grounded in my breath. My body. My awareness was very much Here. I was hearing and smelling and feeling intensely the bird sounds, plant fragrances, air against my skin. I was really with it, really present. It felt as if there were no boundaries and these things were not just outside, but they were in me as well. The best way I can describe it is hearing, but hearing a different way. Softer. Perhaps without “me” getting in the way. The experience was energetic, not cognitive. This type of listening takes things in differently. I had a sense that this is a deeper way to hear, to listen, without my thinking carrying me away from the experience itself.
This morning the sun is shining brightly and there is no need for candlelight as I write. Perhaps the first morning this year for me. Outside my windows, the leaves of the old maple trees are fully opened, and the shadows play in my lap. Oh, I wish I could stay here all day. Enjoy the dappling shadows of sun through the trees, the gentle wind chiming tin rods, the birds calling outside, the quiet in here. But this quiet I can take with me anywhere.