Study for Meditation Mat

Study for Meditation Mat
Handspun Tapestry Weaving

Thursday, 21 May 2015

Down Dog!: Meditation Two

It's a beautiful morning. While Mr. DD and his daughter ran errands, I have been in charge of Morris. We headed for the backyard, which has become Morris's favourite spot. I practised The Ten Mindful Movements and some gentle Sun Salutations and other asana on the patio until Morrie decided I needed coaching. Since his idea of encouragement is to lean his full weight up against my body while I attempt to balance in Vrksasana, yoga came to an end rather abruptly, although there was something fitting about my Tree toppling in such a lovely urban forest.

I sat. I did nothing - no writing, no painting, no photographs. I listened to the birds - the resident mourning dove, a few quails, a raven who stopped to chat. I watched yellow butterflies the size of small birds waft their way through the yard. The neighbourhood is always busy with people attending to their properties, so I concentrated on incorporating the sounds of mowers, weed whackers and chain saws into my practice.

I watched a dog worry a stick. Morris has claimed a large branch cut from Young Ms. DD's lilac bush. For the better part of two hours, he chewed and carried and worried that branch from one end of the yard to the other. He brought it to show me. He balanced it on my chair for better chewing action and, sometimes, he tried to balance it on my leg, which is not a great idea, given his big, sharp teeth. (He's not very good at playing fetch; he knows how to fetch, but doesn't like the concept of "Drop It!" He let me throw the stick 3 times before that game ended. It might be a record.) I sat, while Morris remained focused on that stick and I reflected on what it must be like to give something such undivided attention.

I became aware of the beauty of the neighbour's trees, the smell of the neighbourhood, the buzz and hum of the few mosquitoes out and about. I noticed the lichen on the lilac bush and recalled that the presence of the increasingly rare, slow growing lichen is a sign of clean air.

I saw a small, tattered butterfly decoration tucked in another bush and I smiled. It reminded me of myself.

Just for a moment, I felt my heart rest. Just for a moment, all is well.


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