“ Only when you explore the ecstasy of simply being, where even to breathe is a distraction, can you call yourself complete.” – Sadghuru
Whether I’m sitting outside or inside to write, I find I like to face the same view, to look upon the living wall of primordial dark green forest, with the smudged slate blue of the mountains just behind ( today wreathed in fluffy white clouds ) – a view that never fails to bring me back to self.
This morning as I write up here in my concrete aerie, I am treated to the periodic elegant flight of the Pelagic cormorants, flying like a streak of midnight in a V-shape formation from the waters of Coal Harbour to English Bay. Normally, I would see the odd lone cormorant making it’s way to new feeding grounds, to see them flying in small flocks this summer is a tiny morsel of mystery that I happily chew on each time I see them. Looking down upon the green canopy between the New York-like towers at the edge of our park recently, another small mystery blossomed. This one came in the form of gold and red touches of fall at the tops of some trees, startling me during these early days of August. There is a very hardworking and knowledgeable gardener in the park, Terry often runs into him on morning walks. When Terry asked him about this worrisome mystery, Dave said it was because of last year’s drought conditions, we had a beautiful hot summer which put extra stress on some of the tree’s root systems causing this fall effect. This could happen again next year or in years to come, evidence of the damage that climate change can wreak. A sobering thought to contemplate among so many others…
It is this view and writing practice that helps me gather all the parts of myself that dwell in places like worry, sorrow, or fear. With the constant static from news outlets, the bigger than life headlines of our newspapers and the never-ending mosquito-like droning of our various social media feeds, I sometimes feel myself trying to catch my breath. I yearn to snatch it back, to take the time to sit on my beautiful Indian mat by my plants, a cup of smoky oolong tea nearby and simply be, to go back to claim that original breath, the first one we took as we came into the world before our breathing became a mere shadow of itself. In yoga we learn to embrace the pause we take after each inhale and exhale, knowing that with each pause, we are creating sacred space where we can become one with ourselves and the infinite, to drown out the noise and start anew. To simply be…
Journal Entry: January 05, 2000
I’m lying down on my side of the bed relaxing and writing down my thoughts. It’s after 11 pm and all the bars around us are happening. We are getting used to the noise but we’ll never get used to the loud noise of the neighbouring Lion’s Club building! I’m ready to close my eyes and try to get some sleep, but before I close this short entry, I must write about the thrilling day we had on January 03rd.
We spent most of our day on the beach (we usually tan where the Mexican families are, it’s more private) and with our binoculars kept an eye out for dolphin or whale activity in the bay. After not sighting anything, we prepared to go home to our apartment. Suddenly, I saw a big whale side breaching, earlier Terry & I saw some blows but no whales. For about 15 minutes we watched a small group of humpback whales diving in the water. I saw my first “whale tail”! We saw a lot of blows again as well – I have always wanted to see humpback whales in the wild, what a wonderful sight to behold!