Never Forgotten

I love meditation. It does not always mean to sit in a quiet room with legs crossed like a Yogi, fingers touching, and the mind empty. I was talking to my sister Linda over dinner earlier about this. You can walk and meditate. You can drive and meditate. I knit and meditate. Often, when I am centered in my kitchen, the knife carefully slicing vegetables, the oil in the pan cooking the onions and garlic, then next goes in the beautiful carrots sliced on the bias, oh, and look at the leeks. How beautiful is the leek. Out comes one vegetable and in goes the next, each having its turn in the hot pan until, in the end, when they all marry together with herbs and the sea salt. And nothing else exists at this time. It is all about this tiny kitchen, these beautiful vegetables, the smells, the sounds..... This is meditation too. There are no other thoughts. It is so peaceful.

Tonight I sat in my chair and worked with these tiny pieces of fabrics making rounds. I lit a candle that Christina, my dear friend in Mosier Oregon sent me, a beautiful scent. I sat and made the tiny hand stitches, absorbed in the beautiful colors on a black background when I realized that some three hours had gone by. I got up to make a cup of tea and looked at the candle which had burned down to the dish in the way that hand rolled candles do and found that the single wick had turned into two flames.

At that very moment I felt my mind freed..... Like a river endlessly flowing.

Tea