I step out on the front porch to join the cat who is surveying his street.
I see the chunks of remaining ice and hear the crunch of early cars breaking iced-over puddles.
The cat stretches black against the gray porch floorboards.
Then,
For a few moments,
There is silence,
Even while everything continues.
Nothing stops except the noise,
And in its place is stillness,
Moment after moment,
For a surprisingly long time.
The temptation is to break it before it is broken,
But what if it never ended?
Stand,
For a few moments,
Like a mountain,
Feet on the floor,
Legs steady and holding up the torso and trunk,
And chest,
With arms loose and ready to swing and wave,
And then stretching up,
With neck and head erect,
Facing forward toward the day.
Imagine all the little nooks and crannies where feelings can hide.
Charge out any emotion,
As if you were a windstorm scouring a mountain clean,
Whistling into every crevice and swirling into every corner.
The mountain stands clean and solid.
The mountain and the sky have spirit in common.
Each creation has a unique spirit,
An essence,
That transcends matter,
Space,
And time.
Now that you are reassured about your solidity,
Let go enough to feel and be your spirit.
May you trust your form enough to be your spirit today.
Your gift today is a mountain.