When the Weather fits the Mood

    Yesterday it was pouring with rain outside, really pouring. The proximity of my parents’ top floor flat to the roof amplified the sound of the falling water. For the most part the rest of the day was overcast, it was humid. Today is the same, perhaps a little clearer.

    Following my father’s passing away on Tuesday, this weather has been a real comfort to me. I don’t want to venture far from my parents’ home at the moment, feeling safe and comfortable here, while feeling raw and vulnerable in my emotions. The wet and overcast weather gives me a reason, gives me permission not to venture out.

    At the same time I recognize for me the healing power of fresh air, of being out and stretching my legs. The site of the Horse Chestnut and Beach trees that are abundant around here as well as the smell of the moist grass and early falling leaves reassure me and bring back happy memories of my time growing up in this corner of Bristol.

    Yesterday evening, during a break in the weather I popped out to run a couple of errands. Unexpectedly I bumped into an old school friend out walking his dog. It was a fortuitous and lovely surprise. We stood for a while, each sharing a story of a loved one who had passed away. I was grateful for the meeting - a blessing.

    Sacred Space

    Sitting alone at night, silence, small light on in the corner, stillness, dark outside, alone with a book, my thoughts, writing.

    Walking across the crater floor of Haleakala. Bare, cinder cones, dried lava. The birth place of Maui.

    Sitting chanting Puja in the Shrine Room of Lam Rim Buddhist Centre.

    Pre-dawn, faint light in the sky, bird song slowly starting, a day awakening.

    Sitting around a fire, dinner finished, feeding wood to the glowing embers, wood smoke infusing our clothes.

    A washed up coconut taking root and sprouting in the shoreline soil.

    Massive waves rolling in from the horizon and crashing against the rocks. Crowds stopping to look on in awe at the power of our Mother Earth.

    The bare trees of winter, cold wind blowing through to the bones, stripping away any pretension.

    A sand mandala.

    Dogs barks from across the valley in the darkness of night. A monk chants.