One woman spoke of hearing a young owl calling to his or her parents when she left her tent to pee. She delighted in "who, who", until after fifteen minutes, she thought, "Enough. I want to sleep."
We eat, walk, sit, and maybe sleep. Each step, mindful, peace, and not. Sometimes, I was lonely. One night there was dry lightning, and a flash went right across my eyes, and I thought of fire, and how we might die up there in the forest, and I went to sleep slightly disturbed, and I awoke in mist.
Mist. We sat in mist. One woman shared that as we were sitting in meditation, overlooking, and in, the redwoods, a family walked by. There were signs at the trailhead. "Silent Meditation Retreat. Please be mindful of your speech." One of the two little girls was dressed in pink tights and a tutu. She wanted to know what meditation is. Her mother whispered to her, and sat her down to see, and she announced, "I want to do that."
Oh, mindfulness, presence, honoring, ease. This morning feels blessed, each step, peace, and I know this will change, but now, I am embraced in abundance. Enough. May you feel blessed too. We are enough.
My intention on this retreat was to receive. I did. I wanted my heart to crack open. It did, time and time again, metal bars fell, and wood gates cracked and split. What I learned - well, I'll gradually share, but I learned that the heart is about gratitude. Gratitude.
Receive with gratitude and grace this breath, this air.
Bring in, release, over and over again. Blessings a given, joy, our birthright, presence, a guide.