Magical Meditation
I woke up at about 3:30am and couldn’t fall back to sleep. I tossed and turned, made a mental list of all the “to dos” of the day, and felt an overwhelming sense of security and gratitude to be partnered with Kapil. My thoughts drifted around thinking that I often describe him as my rock, signifying foundational strength and stability, but this morning, I realized that he is a risk-taker in a way that I would have a very hard time doing on my own. The truth is, that I love being alone, but I will often "do something" like read, write, work, or do an activity. I seldom spend un-agendized time with myself. I tried to picture traveling alone and I am not sure I would dare to take that risk, unless I was going to a program or some type of “structure.”
At 4:30am, Kapil stirred, and I excitedly told him my thoughts and that I was going to wake-up. As he got up to use the restroom, he stopped and stared out of the window, “you’ve gotta see this.” I ran to the window and saw the most beautiful sight. It was a silver-lined U-shaped crescent highlight around the moon against twinkling stars over the most still ocean glass.
I was awestruck. I woke up and put the kettle on and went outside on the dock. To my surprise, Kapil joined me under the stars for twenty precious minutes. We felt like we had a secret…like we were the only ones awake in the whole world, admiring the sky and whispering our feelings of gratitude for our blessings—for this moment.
As the kettle sounded, I got up and made a cup of tea…but could not stop obsessing over the sky. I went back out with my iPhone (yes, I am convinced we need a better camera for night shots) and tried different settings, angles, and then had a profound moment…I noticed that I was missing the moment.
When I am alone, I look for structure.
I sat down with my tea and started to reflect on what I was doing. Was I trying to capture the moment—like I do everything?
Side note: I don’t like clutter, but I love traditions and moments, so I collect things in very “organized” ways (i.e. photo albums, mason jars, and binders!). I wasn’t nicknamed, “Paki-rat” at my old work for nothing—ok, I might have given myself that name!
I realized that the camera was my structure. I noticed that I find photography really fun but the deeper “ah-ha” is that provides me with a frame or structure I needed to enjoy a moment…as long as I don’t obsess with the process. I would like to pay attention to the art of photography in letting me be present with a moment (even if (for now), I am outside, looking in; or even if (for now) I am getting closer to answering why I have such a hard time being unstructured just with myself). I got a phone battery pack and our mini-selfie-stick-tripod and just set-up a time lapse video of the sunrise…and I sat still.
I meditated with nature. I watched the fish wake-up. First little schools of fish that would fly out of the water and hover, eating the insects. Then I noticed the bigger fish jumping up to eat the smaller ones. I heard the howler monkeys and distant roosters begin their morning calls. I saw birds fly over the glass ocean one by one, and then in groups. By 6:45am, the ocean was awake. The sun rose (though the moon refused to sleep), the animals sounded in symphony, and the glassy water was now alive.
Kapil bookended my nearly two-hour long meditation as he came downstairs and sat with me once again. I was surprised I sat for so long. I was surprised I did it. I stayed present and still, without intention or agenda. I thanked, the Universe for letting me witness her secrets this morning. And as I got up, I noticed that, still the moon refused to sleep. I chuckled at the fleeting thought that entered my mind—while I’m noticing my relationship to solitude, the moon is sampling its connection to community.
p.s. Aila in Turkish means: The halo around the light of the moon :)