- Cheri Huber
I sit quietly with those words this morning. Yesterday I attended a meditation offered by a friend. She invited me to talk to the group about sensory awareness. I spoke of noticing, moment to moment: How do we meet the bed when we wake? Where is our attention when we brush our teeth? What do we feel between our ears, in our feet?
One woman responded that what she thinks about when she wakes is how she hates to get up. She said she "zones out" as she brushes her teeth and does her morning rituals. They are something to get "done"; she is not noticing and is not curious as she makes her way.
Perhaps it is age that allows me to handle time differently. She is young. Her words open me to notice even more clearly how I curl and uncurl in response.
Saturday I slipped on water that had spilled unnoticed by me on the kitchen floor. My feet came right out from under me, and instinct led me to grab the top rack of the open dishwasher which broke the rack and broke my fall. Interesting the use of the word "broke" here, as the rack needs a new part, and because of its presence, my parts are intact. I was grateful I didn't land on my sacrum. Even so, I was shaken up. So quickly, a shift.
I think of our teachers, how we reverence those who meet what comes by bringing forth their inner support of grace. I think of Charleston, the response of the families of those who have passed.
I continue to ruminate on the book The Bridge of San Luis Rey, a book I re-read periodically because of its impact on me. Why did this group of people pass on together?
I think of the Amish and the loss of their school children and their response.
Today I pause to inspire on those who forgive, who forgive in the midst of tragedy. They offer a chalice of light from which we drink.
This article speaks about the abandonment of reason in this country, about the rise, and therefore, manipulation of ignorance. May this tragedy, along with the others, bring us together for change that unites. May we "be" the awareness we are.