Meditation
I was at Buddha practice last Saturday and found myself flashed to those days, long ago...
Rather than open an entirely new journal for the recording, I have returned here. I still do not intend to use this journal much anymore - I do not believe I will be able to trust anyone again at this stage - but it just makes no sense to go somewhere else after all the building I have done here. So this is my most recently recovered Memory; something that appears inconsequential and yet has echoed my life onward.
I was small, wiry, dark of skin. I can't remember if it was the next day after coming to the monkery or within the first set of days. Whatever the case, I woke up early and crept out of the bare little room I had temporarily been placed into.
I crept down the halls where others saw me go by. I wasn't dressed like them. I was still in my "outside" clothes, and I get the feeling that at the time I really didn't make a distinction. Clothes were clothes.
I found the courtyard.
It was a bare place with I think a diamond in the center; a stone pattern. It seems to me there was some sort of plant islant in the center, too... and bushes all around. Underneath those bushes were dark places with bare earth.
I was small and they were just the right size. I crawled inside and proceeded to repeat my habit of a lifetime: I curled up and Remembered. Remembered. Remembered.
They were calling my name but I did not respond. I was maybe a little frightened, but mostly just Remembering... and did not want to go to them. One of the monks found me by peering down and bushing a branch out of his way. I think he said something, but still I did not respond.
And somehow from there I get the impression that they thought I was meditating and left me to my holy work.
In a sense it was meditating. When I felt more secure I did leave that nestled place and venture forth. Well, that and I was hungry.
There in the Buddha-like place, the place I wish I could find and say hello to again.
Rather than open an entirely new journal for the recording, I have returned here. I still do not intend to use this journal much anymore - I do not believe I will be able to trust anyone again at this stage - but it just makes no sense to go somewhere else after all the building I have done here. So this is my most recently recovered Memory; something that appears inconsequential and yet has echoed my life onward.
I was small, wiry, dark of skin. I can't remember if it was the next day after coming to the monkery or within the first set of days. Whatever the case, I woke up early and crept out of the bare little room I had temporarily been placed into.
I crept down the halls where others saw me go by. I wasn't dressed like them. I was still in my "outside" clothes, and I get the feeling that at the time I really didn't make a distinction. Clothes were clothes.
I found the courtyard.
It was a bare place with I think a diamond in the center; a stone pattern. It seems to me there was some sort of plant islant in the center, too... and bushes all around. Underneath those bushes were dark places with bare earth.
I was small and they were just the right size. I crawled inside and proceeded to repeat my habit of a lifetime: I curled up and Remembered. Remembered. Remembered.
They were calling my name but I did not respond. I was maybe a little frightened, but mostly just Remembering... and did not want to go to them. One of the monks found me by peering down and bushing a branch out of his way. I think he said something, but still I did not respond.
And somehow from there I get the impression that they thought I was meditating and left me to my holy work.
In a sense it was meditating. When I felt more secure I did leave that nestled place and venture forth. Well, that and I was hungry.
There in the Buddha-like place, the place I wish I could find and say hello to again.