Last night while in bed I decided to take a walk to a cemetery 2 miles down the road. There are a couple of massive trees which stand near the entrance, and my intention was to sit in meditation under one of them.
This morning I packed my meditation stool and a Krishnamurti book into my daypack and took a pleasant walk under a gray and chilly May sky. When I arrived I was surprised by the number of cars driving slowly around the place, but then remembered it is the start of Memorial Day weekend. I chose the larger of the two trees because it was living behind a brick wall which blocked out the site of street traffic. As I settled in I closed my eyes and images of past outdoor meditation sessions skipped around in my mind. Soon my thoughts became dense and quiet and like a heavy stone sunk to the bottom of my being. I was left with my breathing and occasional sudden flashes of insight.
Inside my body I was feeling electrical surges which filled my chest with what felt like exploding light, as if there was a sun, or even a galaxy of stars living there, and by being still, like the protective tree, I could sense its activity and flow of energy. A clear image of the tree appeared, a small and thin child bending bravely in rain, wind, cold, and snow. Then it was a mere seed resting in the ground, awaiting its journey without knowledge of how far it would get.
Today, sitting under the tree, I was like a seed which had dropped upon the ground, with the potential to become a massive presence of calm and peace. Time, the sequential kind, is what makes things seem long and hard, but isn't it possible that time has other dimensions which gives one a faded taste of future happenings? Somewhere in time I have grown into something solid and tall, and today was my first step to getting there.
