I am walking in the open green valley, looking for ways of connecting with this untamed landscape. A hawk flies over, gliding through the warm air all the way to the other side of the mountain. I am tempted to climb to the top of the mountain to see what’s on the other side, to stand tall and to see it all, and most of all, to feel that I am worthy. I stand still with my eyes closed, imagining me flying high and being seen. Isn’t this the meaning of life? To share my gifts and to be seen. I take a deep breath, open my eyes, and continue my way on the narrow trail. Under the sun, tiny orange flowers cluster by the roadside. Something about them slows down my hurried steps—that tiny beauty, so dignified and self-assured. Do they ever agonize over their inadequacy? Do they dream big? Do they still matter if no one notices them? I could’ve easily passed them by. I draw myself closer to them and begin to see the delicate details in each one of them. They are so beautiful! Tears pour into the corners of my eyes as stillness and warmth flow into my chest… That tiny orange color is so vast that it makes the mountain top far away so small.
February 18, 2016
A little bird has been singing beautifully in the backyard for three days enticing me to go outside. I spotted her on a high branch the other day, announcing her arrival, her white belly moving in rhythm with her staccato song. Today is sunny and fresh, another good day! But where was she when it was rainy and windy? (I imagined her preferred pronoun being "she") .
February 10, 2016
Walking on a tree-shaded trail covered with soft brown leaves, I imagine being a walking tree, lifting my feet but staying connected to the ground. Through the tree branches, the gentle breeze brushes my moving body, lifting me upward until I feel like flying away, through light and shadow, like a bird. Above, a flock of small black birds are holding a community meeting on the fly, this way, then that way. When one topic is raised, the group echoes in chorus, “Agreed!” “Not agreed!” Or maybe they are just laughing at us, ignorant four-limbed erect creatures.
Standing on a wooden bridge over a creek, I watch the water moving towards me from one side, then under me, then away from me. It is constantly flowing…
When I see a garden, I am in awe, feeling the life force calling to me from way below the dark soil. I walk closer to a fruit tree, a flower, or a vegetable, I touch them gently to feel their vibration that resonates with mine. One day when my time comes, I desire to journey down and be part of that magical life cycle.
Every morning when I open my eyes, the birds fly by my window, calling me, “Outside! Outside! Outside!”
November 16, 2015
I walked in nature on a quiet trail and stood under the canopy of a tree, hearing birds conversing in languages I don't understand and trees whispering to one another, sometimes giggling. I am nature illiterate, but just being there not knowing or gliding through the air with imagination was pure wonder, my breaths even and my body content. As I meditated on the question how we got here as a species, the time lapse of the human evolution unfolded on the inner landscape that I was part of. The magic of life emerges on the horizon...
November 05, 2015
It's a morning like any other morning. I bike to the lake, park my bike by the fence, and walk to my favorite spot. The morning is a little chilly, according to Californian standard. Standing by the lake, looking at the reflections of trees and sky, the shimmering surface, listening to the birds' concert… my stress over some overdue work finally leaves me at peace. After all, as long as my breathing is in rhythm with the flow, everything will be just fine. A day unpaused is a day unlived.
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