"every breath we take can be filled with peace, joy and serenity." thich nhath hanh.
on a recent morning i arose from a long meditation and absentmindedly proceeded to spray one of my house-plants liberally with lysol. realizing what i’d just done, i proceeded to give it a good soaking to wash away the lysol. then i proceeded to watch helplessly as the plant proceeded to drop its leaves. i killed my plant. i guess i poisoned the thing then drowned it.
i tried to blame the pandemic of course. we can blame so much on the pandemic these days. after all, the lysol spray-bottle wouldn’t have been sitting right beside the water spray-bottle if it weren’t for that. the bottom line is that my plant died and i didn’t feel good about it. living alone one begins to relate to ones plants a bit... differently. sometimes i walk in the door and say hello to each plant ceremoniously. now there’s an empty space by the window.
the pandemic has created more loneliness for folks. loneliness was always there, of course, only we normally cover that up so well with relationships, but also with the help of devices, vices and vice versa. we don’t want to be lonely, only we don’t want to be dependent either. so meditation in that regard becomes an act of defiance.
little by little we learn to appreciate our own breath, our own thoughts and feelings, our very existence. the breath is a bridge between a part of us that feels alone and a part that’s forever united with existence itself. in fact, ultimately the meditation is euphoric: the feeling is every bit like being unexpectedly reunited with ones beloved.
the house-plants are vibrating with life, the sun’s out, birds are nibbling suet, someone’s walking by with her dog and unity consciousness is calling.
‘i was lonely until i glued a coffee cup on top of my car. now everyone waves at me.’ anonymous.