I’m beginning to become aware of different subtle patterns and occurrences.
Developing spontaneously… or so it seems.
They fit into larger, more complete images, feelings… ideas. Each becoming a kind of theme on which I can attach the more tangible aspects of what happens during my morning practice.
Sometimes, its a sense of nearly imperceptible fluctuations of sound. Bird calls that in one moment are so clear, distinct and loud enough to seem overwhelming, even to the ubiquitous gentle rush of water from Waimanalo stream. Just a few yards away. In the next moment, they suddenly recede into the distance. Giving way to the buzz of nearby insects, the random rustling of leaves and occasionally… a surprisingly silent moment.
An almost unbelievable silence… suddenly punctuated by the crash of a falling tree, deep in the jungle, or the slap of a single large yellow leaf that falls with a splash of dew, directly in front of me.
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To be continued…
