Tag Archives: meditation

Mountains Run in My Blood

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A cool transparency to the air, a direct sunlight that shivers in the pale green trees, and the jagged outline of the mountains all around me, echoing the geography of my heart… where am I?

Granby, Colorado, 5 years ago. I am young, hopeful, heartbroken, and wildly alive for the first time. I sit on a balcony with a notebook and a pen and try to capture the tumult of my heart and the grandeur surrounding me. Joy wells up, tempered with pain.

Redding, northern California. After an excruciating drive from the smoggy wilderness of Los Angeles through the plains and fertile washes of Central California, to the saturated colors and meandering rivers of the north, where we drove with all our goods and gear in our two aging vehicles, I take a breath and let it out slowly. I am in sight of real mountain again, and my heart is alive.

Redding, CA + Granby, CO / morning / off the grid

Do You Swim in Wonder?

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Benign sun warms my hair, cool ocean breeze kisses my face and exposed arms. The smells of saltwater & sunscreen fill my nose. Children shriek in delight as the cold water kisses their toes and sends exploratory fingers up their thighs. The sky is an impossible shade of blue, lightened toward the south where it provides a powdery blue backdrop for the villas that coat the hillside.

Eire crosses her arms and looks at the ocean while the sun glints on her tousled hair. She’s covered in sand, and the salty wet has reached her waist. I can’t even begin to guess what’s happening inside her mind, but one thing I can see we have in common: a sense of wonder at how much bigger the ocean is than us.

–Little Corona Beach, CA / mid-morning / off the grid

The Secret of Gossamer Mornings

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There’s a hum in the air, a suspension of sound, as if we are wrapped in fine silk. On the stubby grass, the shadow-line of the patio roof is a jagged fissure edged with dark and bright green blades. The scent of ornamental pink pepper wafts in the cool morning breeze.

I breathe and consciously set aside the weight of life for the gossamer morning. A cup of Guatemala in a handmade mug leaves a faint circle on the dust-covered wooden table as I sip and ponder.

This morning, there is sun, there is shade, and there is a daughter dwarfed by my red sun-hat. It promises to be a good day.

–Anaheim, CA / mid-morning / Coffea Roasterie, SD