Dear Ones,
I woke early this morning to the stillness of a foggy dawn in Nova Scotia, just barely able to see the other shore of the Cove. I climbed the steep stairs to my meditation space and sat with the door to the East open, full of gratitude for the opportunity, chanting the Enmei Jikku Kannon Gyo (Guanyin Sutra of Endless Life, that is——funny how the old names stick) for all who are suffering and for those who have died. I have the bell from Creek Bend with me this summer, and its sweet sound was intimate under the pine boards of the attic ceiling. As I finished meditation and started yoga, a flock of a dozen Mergansers appeared just below, just off my deck, ducking and bobbing and scooting across the water, looking delightfully, completely at ease in their watery world.
My time here has so far been more active than quiet, but there’s been a low tide walk and a paddle most days, and the still, early meditation. During some of the days I’ve been cleaning a very old little house we’re renovating—fly bodies, dirt that found its way into the crannies of the newel posts, cobwebs….which is in itself a meditation. This evening, rain started just as I finished up that work and settled back into the Black Duck, and with the tide high and some waves in the Cove, it’s almost like being in a boat——the waves slap against the cribs supporting the house, and make a music with its own rhythm and tune.
“The World” seems a bit far away at these moments, sort of like the other side of the Cove in the mist—I can’t see the ugly house someone is building over there, just the outlines of the shore and, barely, a small tree. But of course “The World” is never far, is always present, and is felt—in the heat that is breaking records here, like everywhere, in noticing that there don’t seem to be as many seals or even cormorants around this year, in the tangible poverty in this area….and in the constant, easy kindness of people day by day. The young woman, high school age, who is cleaning with me, struggles with anxiety and depression; and her sweet smile, her openness, her curiosity and willingness to work and learn are what is noticeable. The arch of her carefully drawn eyebrows goes dancing as she talks, and here’s the full range of a young human life, perfect over the mop bucket, perfect as she artfully designs her sandwich at the kitchen counter. She has a plan, this young woman, and her plan is to serve other young people who are struggling. This is “The World”, too. It seems very important, critically important, to feel connected to the kindness. To be affected by the kindness and the courage. They make me kinder, make me braver. There isn’t any individual awakening. It is something that we do, that we are, together. No matter what the conditions are. No matter what outcomes seem most likely.
Here, with a chance to slow things down a bit, I can feel so strongly the importance of the time for meditation: for stopping. For just not doing anything for a little while. In the space cleared by not doing, a whole dear world can approach and make itself known. And that, dear friends, is not the booby prize.
Hoping this finds you well, I send love from the Maritimes.
Sarah