Mindfulness: Now, Now, Now, Now, Now1 Comment December 10, 2010 / Posted in Breathe, Meditation, Mindfulness
There is only this moment. An infinity of present moments. A present moment of infinities.
A dear friend, Sandy Levin, writer, teacher, artist in stainglass and fused glass, shared with a group of us this morning a piece of her writing as she continues her Writer’s Journey. It was her greeting the sun from Mt Soledad.
As you read, it is an example of being awake, aware, and mindful. Now. Now. Now.
Life Atop Mt. Soledad – La Jolla, CA
December 10, 2010
Fog blankets the Pacific, rolling inland over patches of Interstate 5.
City lights twinkle in the predawn light.
Orange, gold, yellow and blue lighten the clear sky in the east.
A couple, shrouded in black coats, sits on the cement bench, waiting and watching, like me, for the glorious sun to appear.
Coronado Island and the bridge hide beneath the rolling fog.
The white lights of the Mormon Temple shine like beacons in the night.
Streams of headlights flow along I-5 and Highway 52.
A lonely planet shines overhead.
The sky changes from horizontal streaks of color to light pink streaky clouds.
To my left, I can hear the sounds of traffic, yet the fog rolls further east, obscuring my view, now blanketing University City.
I’m sitting on top of the world, perched on the steps of Mt. Soledad, the cross at my back.
To my left the green trees atop the mountain attest to the earth below.
City lights dim.
Gray shadows of downtown San Diego appear in the distance.
The fog thickens obscuring all but the tops of high rises in the Golden Triangle.
A family of rabbits hops through the grass.
Birds chirp in the surrounding bushes.
A runner appears then lunges around the monument.
A photographer waits for the rising sun.
Bikers circle the cross.
The sky radiates streaks of off-white clouds against a light blue sky.
Jets take off from Lindbergh Field, heading west then turning east.
Distant mountains remain charcoal gray, streaks of fog defining perspective.
More runners reach the cross.
A brightening pink glow to my one o’clock hints at the coming sunrise.
It peaks, then shines a pinpoint of light.
The orange-yellow globe rises quickly over the mountains.
My glasses reflect rays and I look away, so bright and glorious, welcoming a new day.
Thank you, God, for this beautiful gift.