Monday Meditation - Feather

Arrange your meditative space for your comfort. Focus on the photograph or pick up your favorite feather and hold it in your hand. Take a deep breath and begin relaxed belly breathing.

As you wander along the shore you study the coarse sand. Tiny crystals the size of salt or sugar mingles with larger versions in beige, gray, gold, and black. They share the ground with tiny pebbles. These pebbles appear to be huge in contrast to the thousands of crystals of sand that fill in the gaps between the much larger rocks and boulders.

You walk along noticing the way the shadows darken the colors creating new patterns around your feet. You pause, bending over to scoop up a handful of sand, then stand and release it. You watch as the sand sparkles in the sunlight as it is whisked away by the breeze and the larger fragments take a more direct route to the ground.

You listen to the seagulls calling as they glide through the sky looking for their next meal of fish. As you walk you see several gray and white feathers. They are gifts of the seagulls that live and fly over the bays. In the distance you can see something darker that is ruffled by the breeze.

It is a feather, a very dark feather, a very old feather that has weathered many storms. You crouch down next to it and are amazed at the delicate designs nature has created. The barbs along the feather no longer rest side by side but like tendrils of hair have curled and twisted to hold the pattern of the wind and waves.

So many stories could be told by this crow feather. How much time has this feather spent on the sand? It could have been weeks, months, or years. You pick up the feather and twist it slowly between your thumb and fingers. Just like you this feather would have felt the warmth of the sun, the wind streaming over and around it. Just as your hands and arms can feel your warmth as you hug them into your body, the feather would have felt the warmth of the crow's body as it came to rest on a high branch or walked along the ground.

You close your eyes and imagine what the crow would see from his high lookout in the top of a tall pine. You caw to the others looking for food on the ground. The warm breeze ruffles your feathers and brings different sounds to your ears. You turn your head ever watchful and are ready to sound a warning or to call your family to return. You enjoy your role as protector. You stretch out your wings one at a time allowing the sun to warm them watching as the others return to roost so that you may take your turn on the ground. As you swoop down to take a drink of water you drop an old feather and watch it flutter to the ground. A new one will take its place.

Like the crow you allow the feather to fall from your hands and watch it slowly twirl to the ground. You feel comfortable at the end of this journey. You know that you may save the memory of this place and feel once again the warmth of the sun on dark feathers and the swaying of a tall tree. Slowly you open your eyes and peacefully return to your own place and time.

My Sunday Funnies - rodent

First published in FMAM: Futures Mysterious Anthology Magazine October- December 2003

Free Book Friday - The Peep of Wilde Chicz

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Monday Meditations - The search for the mystical stone

Arrange your meditative space for your comfort. Focus on the photograph or pick up your favorite crystal or stone and hold it in your hand. Take a deep breath and begin relaxed belly breathing.

Today you are looking for a special stone. A stone that has a hole that goes all the way through from one side to the other.  A stone that when held to the eye can frame the moon, the stars, or anything that one would want to capture for a moment and hold within the stone.

Stones with holes were considered magical.

The day is warm and the morning mist is rising with the rosy glow of the sun. The rocks are abundantly spread over the sand and beneath the surface of the water. You are greeted by the dry muted hues and the wet rich deep reds, blacks, and pinks of speckled granite, basalt, and a wonderful variety of other rocks. Pebbles the size of the tip of your pinky finger occupy the same sand as boulders that would take many people to move them a fraction of an inch. They all sit and wait for inquisitive fingers to trace the worn patterns on their surface or to pry them from the sand or the heavy wet mud.

You zigzag along the shore often stooping or bending to get a closer look at a new treasure. You pick up an oval pebble and a larger egg shaped rock. Both are smooth and worn clean by the tumbling action of the water and the sand. You feel a connection to the stones. Like the stones life has cleaned and smoothed many of your own raw edges. You like the feel and weight of these two stones and tuck them into your pocket. As you walk you feel the differences in the rocks through the bottoms of your shoes. You welcome the comfort and protection they provide. You arrive at an area of warm smooth dry sand bordered on both sides with well worn pebbles and stones. You make yourself comfortable on the sand and begin to run your fingers over the nearest stone offerings.

A darkened spot barely visible set inside the outer edge of a gray stone catches your eye. Most of it is buried in the sand beneath a larger flat white rock. A small oak stick comes in handy to pry it loose from the others. You tap it lightly with the stick and the center releases the gravelly sand. The sand sparkles in the bright golden light as it returns to dust the other stones. You lift the stone to your eye and love how it frames the lake, the sky, and the other countless stones. It is the perfect shape and size. You feel happy and content knowing that you hold a miracle of nature in your hand. It has been worked, molded, and worn by wind, waves, and sand. You feel a sense of wonder and peace as the stone warms in your hands.  You treasure this moment enjoying the sparkling sun on the water, the gentle pine scented breeze, and the sound of gently rippling waves as birds sing to welcome the new day.

Once again you sit rock in hand knowing you may save the memory of this place and continue this journey. Slowly you open your eyes and peacefully return to your own place and time.

Monday Meditations - The Rock

Arrange your meditative space for your comfort. Focus on the photograph or pick up your favorite crystal or stone and hold it in your hand. Take a deep breath and begin relaxed belly breathing.

The day is mildly warm. You pause and listen to the birds warbling and chirping in the secluded branches of the pines and cedars. The sun warms your shoulders and back as you breathe in the fresh clean scent of sun soaked pine.

You raise your eyes to the puffs of white clouds that float silently in the summer blue sky. The water is calm and seems to go on forever meeting and blending with the gauzy clouds. Your gaze returns to the rocky shore. Scattered at your feet are rocks; all colors, all shapes, and all sizes that were dropped as gifts from the melting glaciers long, long ago.

You breathe in and out with every step, pausing, breathing, gazing at the variety of rocks around your feet. Flat stepping stones carry you across the reflective shallow pools that puddle around the bases of the huge sun baked boulders.

You find a rock that captures your interest and take a seat on a nearby boulder. It just fits in the palm of your hand. A map of continents takes shape on the flat bottomed side of the heavy rock. It is rough and flecked with gray, black, bluish green, and white. This rock intrigues you with its white patterns that run like rivers on its surface.

Slowly you rotate the rock in your hand. Each side tells you a different story; each side links you to another time of peace, calm, and contentment. Your finger traces the river which seems to open up into a lake scattered with islands. You look away at a dragonfly hovering close to the surface. It summons an old memory.

The paddle is in your hands as you sit in the bow of the canoe. Rhythmically you sweep the paddle through the water, raise it, and pull it forward through the air. You pause watching watery drops fall from the edge like glistening strings of diamonds. You dip it once again into the water. Each stroke releases scores of cascading diamonds that create rainbows in the air. You feel the breeze as each stroke pushes you forward.

A fish breaks the surface of the water and returns to it with a splash that offers up more glittering watery diamonds that pitter patter down creating ever expanding circles. You follow the fish to the old trees hugging the shore. Their dangling branches and leaves kiss the water and offer you their cooling shade. Tiny fish dart between their ancient roots as limbs creak with each light breeze. Your eyes shift their focus as the lake bottom becomes a mirror, reflecting the tree and the sun glittering through the leaves. Rested you paddle on following the shore knowing that there are endless areas to explore. You pause again dipping your hand into the cold spring fed lake. You take a sip, and then allow the water to fall through your fingers like a dripping string of diamonds back into the water.

Once again you sit rock in hand knowing you may save the memory of this place and that you may return. May you peacefully return to this place and time.

My Sunday Funnies - Cats and Mice Series

First Published in FMAM: Futures Mysterious Anthology Magazine Fall 2003

Free Book Friday - Meditations: Between the Light and the Storm

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/215282
Good morning!  Here is the code for a free download of my book - Meditations: Between the Light and the Storm

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Meditation Mondays - Inner Glow

Arrange your meditative space for your comfort. Focus on the photograph or pick up your favorite crystal or stone and hold it in your hand. Take a deep breath and begin relaxed belly breathing.

Each of us has our own inner glow that we create day by day. Much like a geode our hard outer shell is formed first. As the world seeps into our hollow geode, our inner form, our inner being begins to take shape. We follow our internal path and discover a rich variety of crystals. Some are rough and jagged, some polished and worn smooth like a worry stone, and some fractured and broken. Each holds its own value. Each holds its own experience. Each holds a key to our unique being.

We follow the winding path between the crystals to our glowing center and feel the warmth buried deep within our spirit. Our inner glow begins to spread from our heart out to our arms, hands, and fingertips. It warms and fills our belly and moves down our legs, feet, and toes. The warmth rises pinking our cheeks as a golden glow encircles our head. It rises and falls like a silver fountain until we are gold and silver shimmering spheres.

We sink deeply into the warmth of our joyful memories. They glimmer on the facets of each crystal. We trace them one by one until we come to the one that glows with the warmth of summer. We listen to forgotten sounds and voices. We absorb the summer scents of suntan oil, warm sand, and hot charcoal. Our eyes are filled with the bright colors of beach towels, swimsuits, sand toys, cups, and patterned plates. Baskets overflow with food.

We feel the warmth of the sun on our shoulders as we wade ankle deep in the fresh water. We scan the bottom for sparkling bits of quartz, granite, worn colored glass, and interesting shells. All of our cares have melted into the warmth of the memory. We feel a lightness as a warm breeze frees our spirit. We come to a large granite bolder and sit on the flat warm surface allowing our legs to swing as our toes dangle in the gently lapping warm water. We reach into our pocket and pull out the treasure we found.

It is perfectly smooth and flat, almost oval. It fits in our hand comfortably. We feel the curve and balance as we toss it lightly into the air. We watch the waves as they begin to grow and gently roll in one after the other. We get our hand ready to toss the rock. Our aim is to just kiss the tops of the incoming waves. We shade our eyes and ready our hand for the next cresting wave. As we swing our arm sideways we let out wrist snap sending our stone to skip through the tops of one, two, three waves. It was a perfect skipping stone. Our stone will settle on the lake bottom to work its way once again toward the shore.

We pack our memories up for another day carrying the warmth with us we slowly allow ourselves to return to this place and time.