Finding a comfortable seat here for the meditation.
Maybe rest in the hands somewhere on the body that feels welcome,
Or maybe at the sides.
Beginning to bring awareness to the breath.
Just noticing the quality of the breath here.
Is the breath long or short,
Deep or shallow?
On your next inhale,
Maybe seeing if you can lengthen the inhale by a second or two.
Lengthen the exhale by a second or two.
Deepening the breath here.
Maybe taking a moment to tune into the sound.
Noticing how the sound interacts with your body,
Your heart today.
Is there anywhere you're feeling the sound in your body now?
Are there any spaces where the sound rests in loving relationship to you?
Are there any spaces where the sound interacts with tension in the body?
Just locating those without judgment.
Maybe there's spaces that are neither loving nor tense.
Maybe they're neutral in their interaction with the sound.
Just noticing those here.
Breathing in with the sound,
Letting it grow stronger in the body,
Feeling the body grow heavier on the mat or the seat with each breath.
Good.
On your next breath in,
Bringing your awareness to the mind.
Maybe noticing any thoughts or feelings that are here with you today and just letting those pass on by like leaves on a stream,
Knowing that they may come and they may go throughout the meditation.
Good.
On your next breath in,
Bringing your awareness to a space that you're in relationship with,
A piece of the natural world.
Maybe this is a space you go to often.
Maybe this is a space that you've known for a long time or just briefly.
Taking a minute to land with both feet on the earth,
Taking in all of the colors of this space,
The sky.
Are there clouds?
Are there trees?
Are there other people or animals in this space?
Maybe there's birds or insects.
Taking in the sounds of this space.
Maybe there's wind or the sounds of certain bugs.
Taking in any textures of this space or smells.
And on your next breath,
Allowing yourself to walk slowly in this space,
Feeling each foot touch the earth.
Maybe noticing if there's grass beneath the feet,
Sand,
Maybe there's rocks or mud.
You're walking and walking and walking,
Noticing how your body feels in this space.
How does it feel to commune with the natural world here?
Eventually coming to a space here where you can sit.
Maybe it's in the rays of the sun or under the shade of a tree.
Maybe it's near water or an animal,
But that space is just for you.
And as you sit here,
Just taking a big breath in this beautiful nature space,
Your eyes begin to wander around the plants around you.
Maybe there's grass or clover.
And eventually you notice that there's a wildflower blooming near your feet.
Maybe it's a violet,
An aster,
Goldenrod,
A daffodil.
Maybe it's St.
John's Wort,
Call them.
Maybe you don't know its name.
That's okay too.
Just taking a moment to observe this flower as it weaves beneath your feet.
Noticing its color,
Noticing the leaves,
The stem.
Do they grow out of the dirt?
Do they grow out of the water?
Do they weave with other flowers or stand alone?
Maybe you wonder if they bloom year round,
Or maybe do they signal spring?
Are these flowers big and sprawling?
Are they small or explosive?
Does your flower have any smell?
Maybe taking a moment here to observe this flower's characteristics,
Physical,
Energetic.
Does it have intelligence,
Desires?
Just letting the answer come to you organically.
No need to force it.
Maybe imagining introducing yourself to this flower formally.
Maybe you all have shared space before or in passing at a distance.
Maybe sharing about yourself energetically to this flower.
How does it respond to you?
Maybe it's warm and inviting.
It's excited or taking a moment to observe how this flower interacts with the more-than-human beings of the natural world.
How does your flower interact with insects?
Does it let them make a home of their plant body?
How does it interact with pollinators?
Is your flower edible to others or poisonous?
How did your flower learn to attract others?
How does your flower protect itself?
Maybe you ask this flower,
How did you learn to be this way?
You see what they say.
Maybe you ask the flower if it's native to this land or if it's traveled from far away.
What's its story of migration?
What has this flower witnessed across centuries?
Has it traveled in the stomachs of birds?
Has its seeds ridden on the bottom of feet?
Do humans know you across the globe?
Does your flower know it's beautiful?
Continuing to observe this flower,
Is there a place near the flower or with the flower that feels wounded to you?
Maybe you ask it directly.
Spiritual,
Social.
And as it's sharing,
Just noticing,
Attempting to not suppress the difficult energies that may arise.
Does it have any questions it wants to ask you?
How might each of these wounds reveal life-serving powers that serve life and liberation?
Taking a moment here to offer this flower some gratitude.
We're on the earth's floor.
Will the hungry ox stand in the field and not eat of the sweet grass?
Will the owl bite off its own wings?
Will the lark forget to lift its body in the air or forget to sing?
Will the rivers run upstream?
Behold,
I say,
Behold the viability and the finery and the teachings of this gritty earth gift.
Eat bread and understand comfort.
Drink water and understand delight.
Visit the garden where the scarlet trumpets are opening their bodies for the hummingbirds who are drinking the sweetness,
Who are thrillingly gluttonous.
For one thing leads to another.
Soon you will notice how stones shine underfoot.
Eventually,
Tides will be the only calendar that you believe in.
In someone's face,
Whom you love,
Will be a star,
Both intimate and ultimate.
And you will be both heart-shaken and respectful.
And you will hear the air itself like a beloved whisper.
Oh,
Let me for a while longer enter the two beautiful bodies of your lungs.
The witchery of living is my whole conversation with you,
My darlings.
All I can tell you is what I know.
Look and look again.
This world is not just a little thrill for the eyes.
It's more than bones.
It's more than a delicate wrist with its personal pulse.
It's more than the beating of a single heart.
It's praising.
It's giving until the giving feels like receiving.
You have a life.
Just imagine that.
You have this day,
And maybe another,
And maybe still another.
Someday I'm going to ask my friend Paulus,
The dancer,
The potter,
To make me a begging bowl,
Which I believe my soul needs.
And if I come to you,
To the door of your comfortable house,
With the unwashed clothes and unclean fingernails,
Will you put something into it?
I would like to take this chance.
I would like to give you this chance.
We do one thing or another.
We stay the same or we change.
Congratulations,
If you have changed.
Let me ask you this.
Do you also think that beauty exists for some fabulous reason?
And if you have not been enchanted by this adventure,
Your life,
What would do for you?
What I loved in the beginning,
I think,
Was mostly myself.
Never mind that I had to,
Since somebody had to.
That was many years ago.
Since then,
I have gone out from my confinements,
Though with difficulty.
I mean the ones that thought to rule my heart.
I cast them out.
I put them on the mush pile.
They will be nourishment somehow.
Everything is nourishment somehow or another.
And I have become the child of the clouds and of hope.
I have become the friend of the enemy,
Whoever that is.
I have become older and cherishing what I have learned.
I have become younger.
And what do I risk to tell you this?
Which is all that I know?
Love yourself,
Then forget it,
Then love the world.
To begin with,
The Sweet Grass by Mary Oliver.
Taking a moment to bring your awareness gently back into the body.
Feeling your heart beat.
The rise of the chest and belly with the breath.
Maybe welcoming some gentle movements in the toes or the hands.
Thank you for joining Judette and I today.
Happy Sunday.
