Meditating Frog Bows

 

My statue of a meditating frog took a tumble. That's 40 pounds of concrete. Who has that much push?

Clue: Hanging six feet above it was a suet feeder, which is now missing.

In my mind, that adds up to: Bear.

I really thought the suet feeder was safe since it was 8 feet off the ground. But if you use the frog as a ladder, well, the homemade suet is within reach.

Obviously, the bear is smarter than i am, because i never imagined standing on top of the frog. I have to bow to the ingenuity of the bear.

Our animal instincts subvert our meditation all the time. Desire is a big one. Aversion another. And then there's dreaming, planning, and fantasizing. The instinct that subverts my meditation is sleepiness and dullness. If i don't watch out, i'll wind up with my forehead on the floor, snoozing away.

Turkeys Eating Ticks

 I opened my eyes during meditation this morning and saw 22 turkeys strolling across my lawn. Heads down, alert to their surroundings. They were all pecking at the grass--eating ticks, i assume.

Have you seen the movie My Life as a Turkey? A wildlife rehabilitator raises a clutch of motherless turkey eggs, and he himself sees much more life in the woods than usual because he is seeing as a turkey.

When we look closely at our own inner landscape, we see much more than we usually do. We might see the arising of a thought, the disappearance of a feeling. Last spring, i discovered the earliest warning sign of oncoming sleepiness--heaviness behind my forehead.

Knowing that the turkeys are cleaning my garden and woods of tick pests, i feel much safer.