During my meditation class last evening, I watched the teacher, Mark, and mused that this must be what it is like after 30 years of meditation practice. His years have served him well.
I am excited about the impact on me by my past year of practice. I have been reminded that I may be experiencing the effect of not one year but nearly 50 years of preparation for this day. It has been a long time since the first indistinguishable seeds of contemplation were planted, without flourish and with little attention. I never really learned to meditate during my years as a monk, but I think I developed an appetite. And I am grateful for all those who planted that insistent longing.
Now those seeds have tentatively emerged after so many years of apparent dormancy. They shape my comfort, even familiarity with the developing awareness that comes with meditation. It is an awareness that often unfolds with ease and I feel the delight of being human.
Maybe those seeds haven’t been as dormant as I think. Perhaps I have been rehearsing in subtle ways all these years. No matter its cause, today is a great day to feel alive and awake, it is a great day of hope.
For a moment I am curious about what lies ahead. Then I return to the delightful wonders of today.