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Submitted by marc.patterson on Tue, 11/4/2014, 11:03am
Sunday sun breaks over Wanaque Reservoir
Cool morning air, crisp, no bite, but breezy.
Rovers still sleep, late night around campfire with wine and stone soup.
I break camp quietly and walk the ridge with the sun dancing off the last of the autumn leaves
Finding a calm quarry of granite I rest.
Sitting quietly, minding breath and traffic from the highway below, birds in the air, a hawk
scours for breakfast in the distance.
Hunger prompts me to return to camp and lower the bear bag for a hearty bowl of oatmeal,
but first I sit.
mindful of the moment,
paying attention to the body, not responding to my hunger, only listening.
insight arises into the impulsivity of the mundane, and I let this thought fall away; all thought falls like leaves to the ground. Silent.
Impulse to eat when the stomach feels hunger
impulse to drink when thirsty
what are these sensations, these urges? How do they find themselves manifest in other areas of my life?
impulse for new, better, shiny, glossy, or dull,
for warmth, for rain, for material mind matter.
for validation, social media smack, emails, go, go, go
we move at the speed of our impulses - never mindful of their meaning, never letting them pass like thought in spectacle of nature.
to feed the impulse is to miss the sun rising, robins singing, woodpeckers and hawk flying. It is to miss one’s breath, to miss sensation, to feel the moment, to be alive. To sit is to live, and little more is needed.
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