Tranquil Twilight

"I am of this." - Me, as I watched tonight's sunset.

Day 235. Cooler temperatures make everything right in my world. Attachment to weather conditions is so ridiculous - talk about something we can't control! I'll say it again: Cooler temperatures make everything right in my world.

My practice continues to infiltrate the essence of my existence. After a bike ride down the Middle Path (not too long, not too short, not too hard, not too easy . . . Just right!) I spent some time in the garage staining floor boards for the office. Stain on, stain off. It was very Zen. Mindfulness infuses tasks with meaning and flow. It also results in less spilled stain, which truly is meaningful when cleanup time rolls around.

It was such a lovely evening I decided to dine outside. I cooked another one of my Omelets of Many Colors, toasted an English muffin and slathered it with boysenberry jam, garnished my plate with decorative slices of succulent tomato, and stepped out onto my patio. Paused to express gratitude for the beautiful meal. Chose to eat mindfully, which was an exceptionally good call. I savored every bite of my veggie filled omelet, and the boysenberry was downright sensual.

The sun was setting as I ate my meal slowly and appreciatively. The air was that rare temperature at which it is impossible to discern where my skin ends and outside begins. A few birds called out now and then as though they, too, were grateful for the beautiful day. I looked to the west and caught my breath. The sky was an azure blue plaited with the wispy clouds that so perfectly absorb and reflect the palette of the sinking sun. I knew I was in for a spectacular show, and consciously elected to mindfully witness it. I hope I was a worthy spectator.

Absolute stillness. Even the breeze ceased to whisper. In unison, the birds abruptly hushed. I watched the glory of the changing colors. It had never occurred to me to notice the sequence of colors in a sunset. Pale yellow blended to creamy croissant which melted into metallic golden before my very eyes. As the sun sank lower, I was treated to a spectrum of the prism mimicking sun ripened fruit: peach to tangerine to vibrant orange. Briefly, I wondered at the mystical coincidence of how the words for those colors also labeled nature's tastiest desserts. The sunset climaxed with a momentary burst of fire bright magenta. If I blinked, I would have missed it. Suddenly, like blowing out a match, the burning pink was extinguished. A dusky purple remained. As if cued by a dropping curtain, the breeze kissed my face. A single cricket opened in song.

All that time on my cushion, and body/mind gave way, at last, to the brilliance of late summer twilight. As my gaze lingered in the west, a thought floated to consciousness in slow motion: "I am of this." I reveled for some moments in the certainty that I was not separate from such breathtaking perfection. Joy rained down from the soft summer sky, drenching me in gratitude. Let us be reminded: We all are of this.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc