I don’t know what this phenomenon is called, but I caught it while in Arizona two weeks ago.
The aqua blob is something that happens when light strikes my mobile phone camera. I don’t know what that’s called, either, and I don’t know how to get rid of it. So this is not a UFO sighting. Just beautiful light refraction through clouds.
When I was working at my sister’s dining table two weeks ago, I was struck by the only natural light that came into the house. It came in through the blinds and struck the chairs. I liked the pattern it created.
She decided last week that she doesn't want to return to the house, so someone else will be sitting around the table on these chairs.
So here's the light through her blinds striking her chairs.
There was a pond out back of where I was staying a couple of weeks ago in Arizona. So I took pix.
But what was really interesting to me was this boat, full of pond water, right next to the pond. Dunno what the story would be.
The world lost the corporeal manifestation of a force for peace last Friday. Thich Nhat Hanh, the founder of “engaged Buddhism”, peace activist and father of mindfulness died, aged 95, at his home monastery in Vietnam.
I chose the phrase “corporeal manifestation” because he of all
people taught that the essence, the reality of a being does not begin with
birth or end with death, and I truly believe that. Nhat Hanh’s teachings have
enriched the world in general and me personally, a gift of immense grace and
value and one for which I am deeply grateful.
I am so constituted as to be constantly in motion—if not physically,
then mentally. It is very, very hard for me to stop and be. But Nhat Hanh tells
us again and again that just being—in the moment—is when we are most connected
with the universe. Even with my monkey brain I get that (although it is mortal
difficult for me to put it into practice). But every once in a while, I pull
back from my frenetic activity and focus on the moment and a simple task—say, washing
dishes—I feel that connection and it brings such unexpected joy.
In 2009, when I was retracing the route of my pilgrimage 30 years
earlier, I took a small detour
to Village des Pruniers, the main monastery and retreat house of Nhat Hanh’s
movement about 80km outside of Bordeaux. I walked around, attempted to meditate
and took some photos. It was exactly what I needed then, and remembering that peacefulness
is exactly what I need now.
Thich Nhat Hanh’s body is dead, but his teachings live. I am so grateful for that.
