1. Shambhala Writings
Mindful Meadow
Thicksummerwindscomb tall mountaingrassesandscrubbypines,
Wooshingovermybodyand intomy heart as I lay onmy back.
Mountainridge spineslookliketornpaperagainstthe blue sky.
My physical andenergeticedgesdissipateintothe altitude.
Unconsciousmovementsandthoughtssputtertorestlike a downyfeatheronthe breeze.
Windingdown,windingdown,windingdown.
Until I reach myfloor,properlyfatigued todwell in solitude withouttwitchingandpattern.
There I finda full andsad heartyearning toshare the LightI am withmyself withothers.
Go away torrentsof thoughts,I am resting.
Great Eastern Sun
Upward steps,anklessteadyingoverdusty nooksandcranniescarvedfromheavydownpours.
I honorthe Great EasternSunrisingtodaywiththe open heartI carry atop Marpa Point.
I have an appointmenttobowandinvite itinmyheart, toexpose my mostvulnerable center.
I am tiredof feelingresistance andpain.
I surrendertomy basicgoodnessalone with the Earth,Skyand the Great Eastern Sun.
Throughmy practice,I will dwellandlive frommykindandlovingcenter.
Andthe sureness andkindnessof the GreatEasternSun will shine fromme inall directions.
DeafeningSilence
The car door opensandthe cabin pressure immediatelychanges.
Thissacred landof scrubby flora,wornwalkingpathsandmodestbuildings adornedwithprayerflags
severmy attachmentslike aknife.
I walksoftly blendingwiththe solitude,allowingmyeyesto absorbthe vistassurroundingme.
2. I hearmy voice far away,utteringwordsthatvibrate meditatively ratherthancognitivelythinkabout
theirmeanings. Itremindsme of mimicking the low whirs of school busengineswhen Iwasa in some
afternoon trance of a nine yearold.
I’mfallingintothe chasmof re-connectionandknow thatiswhyI am here.The role Ihad hopedto
make for myself here isnotthe reasonanymore.
It’sbeentenminutessince arrivingandeverythinghaschanged.
Potholeson the Road to Nirvana
I beganwalkinginearnestfouryearsagoaftermy massage therapy practice re-ignitedthe Lightwithin.
A switchhadbeenflippedonandIwas destinedtowalktowardspeopleandplacesthatspoke tome.
Like some dehydrated hikerinthe highdesert,myfeetkeeptrudgingonfromone personal
transformationencountertoanother. Experiences change me inwaysthatare hard to understand. I
keepthe ingredientsthatresonate withme, fiercely wrestlewiththose thatare bitterandfinally,spit
themout onthe pathtowardsthe Middle. Myhopesrise and fall like myribcage fillingandexpelling
air. My hard fightand determinationtoovercome issofteningwithtime tobe more silent,resilientand
implacable.
I am not findingmyplace yet,somysensestell me. IworryI will never fitinorbe quite goodenoughto
simplyBE,offerwhatI have and letthe restgo. I worry I am becomingdysfunctional. AmI holdingon
too tightlyorgettingclosertomy center?
I will breathe in:navigatingpotholelessons astheycome
Andbreathe out:remainingopen-heartedfacingthe lightof the GreatEasternSun
