Erosion Of The Now

My Thursday morning meditation group meets on the beach during the

summer. This past Thursday was hot, hazy and the waves were quiet. At

the water’s edge sat a spectacular sandcastle. Turrets, steps, a half open

door, stone walls, and an arched opening into the castle space itself. All

made out of sand.

I spent the first ten minutes of what was supposed to be meditation

contemplating how I would take a picture of it when my group ended. I

didn’t want to get my shadow in the picture so I would have to stand just so

in relationship to the sun. I wanted to capture the sides of it so I would have

to squat down instead of standing over it.

And then I realized that I had left my phone in the car. Which was parked

some distance away. No picture.

And suddenly I was present. I wasn’t planning for the future. I was sitting at

the beach, meditating. The shift was abrupt and welcome. I didn’t have to

worry about getting the perfect picture, I could just enjoy the sun and the

waves and the sandcastle in all their glory in the now.

This time would pass.

The sandcastle would erode and as a matter of fact, when I looked at it

closely, I could see the places where chucks had fallen off and the sides

where the sand was slowly wearing off.

But I had this day and this sandcastle now. In this moment. And I had

forgotten that in the planning I was doing for the future–like taking a

picture.

Blessings to you in the now amidst all the planning for the future.

Love,

Lolly xo