Snow Melt Meditation
This was forecast to be day two of a rainy patch. After brunch it remained overcast, but no rain, so I decided to chance the rain and go to ZenRiver Gardens and hang out. Chase and I got there early, at 11:30 am, and as usual he bolted for the neighbour's yard so he could sniff their dog's smells.
The rain was holding off, so I decided to collect more beer cans from the several embarrassing piles. If I'm going to take my friend Thay, the head monk from Zenforest, to visit ZenRiver, I decided I should at least clear off more of the hundreds of crushed beer cans.
While planting the second pine, a friendly neighbouring property owner stopped to chat. Of course he wanted to know where I was getting the pines, and not being experienced at prevaricating, I said from behind Dan's. He was teasing me to amuse his son, who was recovering from the painful removal of two wisdom teeth, but I decided next time to answer the way his smartass cousin would, by saying, "from the ground", something stupid like that.
The rain now started, which was good for watering in the four new residents. I was tempted to leave, and Chase ran to the car and sat underneath it. But I thought of my buddy Morley, and also my friend Thay, and decided to sit on my shack's porch and meditate during the rain.
I'm learning to just start meditating. To not slow down the process with rituals of any kind, and after giving Chase three well-deserved biscuits, I sat in the pine rocker and began.
I've been practicing meditation for 40 years, as long as I've been writing haiku poetry. Sometimes I've been a devout and regular meditator and haijin, but most often not. Meditating sometimes just lightens my 'monkey mind' thoughts, which is fine. Sometimes I compose poetry during inspired moments, and every now and again I get to sit with the Buddhas.
Every meditation session is different, as varied as a trip to a foreign country, yet as familiar as a visit to my ZRG retreat. Several times I have experienced what I'll call 'phenonena'. Today's session was unexpectedly deep. Once when I opened my eyes:
I am usually a good judge of time; friends can vouch for this. I was sure I had been meditating for 15 minutes, maximum. Once or twice before I have experienced a sense of the ground moving at ZRG as I come out of a session. This happened again today. I glanced at my watch, and the session had lasted half an hour! Chase jumped on the side table to escape the wet deck and to visit, and I realized the meditating was definitely over. I was disappointed, the meditation had been so deep, the light so bright, the phenomena so enjoyable, the river carrying the white lightness of the spring snowmelt so bubbly and fast-flowing.
Chris Faiers (2008)
Marmora, Ontario, Canada