Well, I've been going around and around about meditating. I know it's a cleansing, centering activity, but I can't get my mind and heart around it. For some reason, thoughts need to happen, problems solved, schedules to decide, and my next meal needs some consideration. If I'm not engaging my mind, I am wasting my time.
This morning I went outside in my pajamas and bare feet with the dog and sat in my gravity chair at the end of the dock. So many million dollar breezes came at me with absolutely glistening-in-the-sun water tips out there. How could I NOT think about meditating? Then my mind got full enough where that was not going to happen. "Just concentrate on your breaths... in and out and in and out and in..." Wasn't going to happen. Not today. Not out here where there is God and nature, and... my Mom and Dad.
Yes. I started talking to Dad. I often think about Dad out on the dock watching the water and imagining what fish are beneath it's surface. While he would have loved trolling around Slim, I'm sure he would be putting the boat into a nearby larger lake to land some bigger fish. I know him. But we started talking about the gifts he has given me. The gift of noticing really beautiful details, of appreciating really good craftsmanship - like the craftsmanship he employed while he worked in wood. Of the touching and working with hands, in a caring and loving way. Not working against but with the medium. He gave me the gift of believing that I could do and be anyone! If he gave me nothing else, that would have been enough!
Mom now came into discussion. Mom. I realized this morning that I miss saying "Mom" and "Dad". I don't get to say them anymore. At least I thought I couldn't. But this morning taught me that I could. Easily with conversation following. But Mom. My closest friend and confidant. I mean, I grew up with her as a kid, but was treated as an adult by her years later. That is a gift! To be treated as your age. We were in deep. She taught me the softer side, as strong as she was. How to bend and fit when needed. Not as weakness, but as bolstering strength. She was a force to be reckoned with, my Mom.
So, I'm mostly writing because I don't want to forget how great this morning was. That those who pass on don't leave us. Ever. They always strengthen resolve and further point out the good stuff, letting the negative stuff just fall away. The tears are real and good and cleansing.