Luke and I went for a long walk today. We ended up at the park I used to take him to when he was younger. We swung on the swings, played on the teeter totter, did yoga, pull ups, push ups and laughed until our sides hurt. Lost in blissful moments that flew by like bees; lost in the moments of now.
The sound of the wind in the trees called to me like a long lost love, and I told Luke I was going to sit for a while.
I went and sat on the grass, listened to the wind and fell into a deep meditation. I listened to the wind. My thoughts moved and danced in the sky like the rustling leaves, and my heartbeat like the wings of a slow motion hummingbird. The traffic going by in the background and the sound of children playing was like the accompaniment to a symphony of natural sound so powerful, it carried me away to a non-spatial place where the ideas of holding, hiding and resistance disappeared.
It’s absurd. The way we all rush. Honk our horns, talk fast to the person on the other end of the phone about our busy lives. Go on and on about things that don’t matter at all. Rush here, rush there. Always rushing. The only thing that we are rushing closer to is the end. But why?
My thoughts, so slow. No cause, no effect. There is only now. This moment. There is no rushing. Not for me, not for anyone. Watching life unfold of its natural accord, and being present for that miracle, resonates with me. Everything else is absurd.
My meditation went on for some time. My son came and sat next to me at the very same moment a bee stung my foot. I laughed and marvelled at the amalgamation of pain and pleasure.
Bees sting, grass blows in the wind, children laugh, thoughts come and go. Muhammad Ali shadow boxes in my brain. I am a silly fool, just like everyone else.
We fight so hard for the right to carry our baggage. Clinging like lost and lonely children to emotions from the past; clinging so hard out of fear of who we would have to be without it.
I have to know who I am without crutches. Without drama. Without the holding, clinging, ego, pain, desire, emotional baggage: All the parts of me that are just forms of pain seeking release.
When I let go, I did not fall apart. I fell together.
Photo Credit
Hummingbird Wings Landing #2 Creativity+ @ Flickr.com. Creative Commons. Some Rights Reserved.
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