There are several heart-shaped holes in the sidewalks on my usual haunts. A number have gotten progressively more heart-shaped over a period of months. Who are the good fairies who are chipping away at things to remind us of the heart if we are just paying attention?
The moon was incredibly full and bright in a clear sky tonight. When I was walking home from work, I saw a tourist taking pictures of the Capitol. “You’ll want to photograph the moon,” I said, after having just taken a few pictures myself. “Yes, I did,” he replied with a big grin.
As bright as was the moon, the street lights would not have needed to be on so fully as when the moon is just a sliver of a crescent. As I gazed in awe at the luminous beauty of the moon, I thought also about the wondrousness of electric street lights. How is it that we so often take for granted electricity, but marvel at the moon? Is not light in all its forms a source of wonder when we stop to remember? Why resent the street lights for dimming the beauty of the moon when we can instead see their own beauty?
It was already hot when I went out into the garden after I sat for meditation. I try only to water every third day it does not rain and have used soil supplements such as “soil moist” to make that possible, but it was critical that I water so that the plants survive today’s blazing heat.
Before I went out, while listening to the weather forecast, I drank my second glass of filtered tap water. I thought how lucky I am to have fresh drinking water from the tap, shelter from the heat, ice if I want it, and water for the garden. All those warnings to stay inside, keep cool, and drink plenty of liquids are meaningless unless one has access to those things.
I am grateful, too, for my practice. I know that a slow, quiet practice helps keep me cool and rested, and that I can get extra enjoyment from the way the heat warms my muscles without any effort at all on my part. In the heat, stillness is so welcome that sitting is as sweet an activity as I could know.
