On Meditation

It was the flickering that caught her attention, and the calming scent that illuminated from its center.  It burned in front of her while she allowed the beads from her bracelet to glide through her fingers, as each passing hum of the mantra calmed her down. Silently she watched the candle and chanted her whispers as the scent being released from the warming candle filled her nostrils with memories of cool summer nights and breezy autumn days (the elements that calmed her). She closed her eyes  for fear of losing herself in the sight of the growing flame. She let her vision be strayed by the outline of the candlelight, which stayed in her mind as her eyes were shut softly over her thoughts. She fell deeper into a numbing state as her chants grew softer and her breathing louder. She had no thoughts now, but knew only the motion of her fingers over the smooth beads, the sound of the flickering candle and the scent it let off, and the vibrations of her voice through her chants. She was meditated.

T. DM

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See. Feel. Think.

English: Female House Sparrow, Bairnsdale Aust...
English: Female House Sparrow, Bairnsdale Australia. Taken in September 2006. See also Image:House sparrow03.jpg. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

What I see around me.

The wind is casting its heavy breeze and smothering the hot summer air, while my legs stick to the damp grass leaving a tickling sensation behind. The sun is beaming down, touching my skin slightly, warming my coffee and kissing the garden gently as its crops ripen. There are no noises now, but the blustering of the wind and the chirping of brave birds who dare to challenge its speed and sway.

What I feel.

My body
is still but for the motion of my hand, as I glide my pen along the page of my
journal. I cannot see what is being written for the sun is too bright in my
eyes, and I must trust my mind to jot down precisely what I am thinking. This in
itself is a vulnerable task, as it restricts me from proofreading and altering
my mistakes. It stops me from hiding from my errors which I so often do, and it
opens my thoughts to the truth.

What I think.

I have taken in
the scene around me and heard no noises but for the wind. I have used it to
center my thoughts and transcribe them blindly into my journal. I have finally
learned to stop hiding from my own vulnerability, and have made myself visible
to nature. I can share my true thoughts with the page and allow it to be inked
permanently,

but I will not share them with you.

T. DM