Buddhism: meditation on life

Finals week has ended, the runaway train of life has ground to a near halt. And yet it goes on. The dust settles and the world around comes in to focus. The first thing I see? Capote, the movie. (more on that perhaps later)

I was sick today, too sick to make it to my final class, too sick to give my scheduled presentation, too sick to hand in my scheduled paper. I almost went anyway, almost forced myself, hopeful that it would turn out ok. The very thought of missing all that made me even more nauseous than whatever bug had put my stomach into a rage yesterday. But, just hours before class, my thoughts scattered, my eyes and hands shaky, I pieced together an email for my professor, and then collapsed into a deep though brief sleep.

I woke up to one of the most beautiful days we’ve had this year, warm and bright, with tiny clouds dotting the picture perfect blue sky. But I had a cloud of failure looming over me, not to mention the dehydration and fatigue from my illness. The beauty out there all obstructed by failure in here.

So I went about my business, which wasn’t much as I had emailed my professor and my boss that I was sick. Mostly I tidied, washed dishes, and stared out at that beautiful Montana sky. I had decided to drive to Helena to see my family for the weekend, so I set about packing, and about halfway through, something caught my attention.

It was my breath. I realized that I hadn’t breathed, just breathed, in several days and now my breath had come back to me and appeared like a stranger, but a very welcome stranger. There, in my room, still half a duffle bag in front of me, I just meditated for a minute, and slowly the weight of the so-called failure lifted and the world around me came in to focus.