Nuthatch on Icicle

 

While waiting its turn at the suet feeder, a nuthatch waits on a nearby icicle. It looks like a chilly perch to me, but then i've been going barefoot in the snow.

Today is the day people over 75 can sign up for vaccinations in our state. It's been feeling like a long, cold wait. When? When? When? Then this morning, when is the website going to open? The state Health Department didn't give a specific time because they didn't want to be overwhelmed. After meditation at 7:00, i checked the website again for my sweetie, and it was open! He got his appointment. Now he waits 12 days for February 6, the date of his vaccination.

Waiting through these next cold days for the long-awaited shot.

Waiting. What is "waiting," really? Waiting is not being in the present moment. Waiting is looking forward to the next moment, the next hour, the next day, the next week, the next month. As if "now" were something to be pitched aside in favor of the the desired "then."

The nuthatch perches on an icicle. That is all. Perching, perching. Breathing, breathing. Heart beating, beating.

That sentence about waiting for the suet feeder is just a story i made up.

Icicle Uncertainty

 A very long icicle formed on the corner of the roof--a sword of Damocles poised to drop on the unwary. I kept my eye on it every time i set foot on the deck.

Death is certain.

The time of death is uncertain.

Given this uncertainty, what's the most important thing for you to do in order to fulfill your life's purpose?

Icicle Moon

A fingernail of the waning moon hangs in the sky at dawn, flirting with a small pink cloud, which drifts away as the sliver of moon rises into the day and disappears. A nearby icicle watches all of this, frozen as it is on a freezing day.

The moon disappears though we "know" it is still there. Sort of like Awareness, there but invisible to ordinary eyes. Our ordinary eyes focus on icicles, freezing the ever-changing movement of Now into things. And we play with these things as if they are real. As one teacher says, "Nouns are just slow-moving verbs." Nouns make us think that things exist. Nouns delude us into everyday reality.

We catch glimpses of Awareness, just as we catch glimpses of the fingernail moon. Awareness is always there--quietly saying nothing.

Ice Cubes on a Stick

Ice Cubes on a Stick

Taking a walk by the river, i was surprised to see icicles on the shrubs in a variety of forms--ice cubes on a stick, icicle fingers, and icicle drapery. Nature's artistry is amazing.

The river rushed by, just inches away--water in its liquid form--while i admired water in its solid form. Water appeared in many different bodily forms (solid ice), which only later, when i wasn't looking, would return to liquid form.

Our body appears to be solid, yet we know that it is 70% water. We don't pay much attention to the water flowing into and out of our body. We think, "Water. My body. Urine." and thereby fail to see the water-water-wateriness. Not different water. The same water in different forms.

And really, couldn't we say the same thing about all the people on this earth? Water in such a variety of forms.

Icicle Fingers