When I was a little girl, I used to sit in the playground and collect gravel pebbles, twigs and wingnuts.
There was something so alluring about collecting objects from nature- things that people wouldn’t even look at twice. But for me, finding a sparkling pink pebble was like discovering gold. I kept my pebbles in my pockets, forgetting they were there until I put my hands inside, rediscovering them.
A tiny pebble that reflected the light of the sun. What could be more prized than that?
* * *
After spending most of today working online/on the computer, I got so agitated that I needed to get out. Sometimes sitting in front computer feels like my life force is being slowly sucked out of me, the screen draining me of my spirit.
I opted for a walking meditation through the garden (barefoot-I avoid wearing shoes if I can). There’s something delightfully annoying about having a sharp stone jab into my foot when I least expect it. Not quite the equivalent of a Zen slap, but maybe a Zen pinch. The walking happened, but not so much the meditation. Too much clutter in my head, too much clutter. So I thought, why not sweep?
Whirling, whirling, whirling… reaching, reaching, reaching…letting go, letting go, letting go.
I hope the wind blows it in all directions.
A fana’ of sorts.