by watchsmart via creative commons
An odd day. When I opened the blinds and looked out on my yard, I noticed my prayer flags had disappeared. We had a strong wind rip through here last night. It tore the last of the leaves from the trees, sent limbs earthward, and made a mess of the neat pile of raked leaves at the curb.
Amid all the howling and rustling outdoors, I suppose my flags lost their grip on the wooden fence and sailed away. A brief search of the immediate neighborhood turned up nothing. I decided the grouping of five colorful fabric squares, as faded and frayed as they were, had done their work and needed replacing. Nevertheless, I was a little sad and unsettled.
As the coffee brewed, I opened my laptop to check e-mail and look up some information about prayer flags, I found that I could not get into Yahoo e-mail and Facebook. I’ll spare you the details except to say 12 hours later I’m back on e-mail but Facebook refuses to allow me to use my account. I smell trouble.
Prayer flags gone. Online accounts compromised. Small things, really, but enough to set my day on its side.
As I descend the stone steps leading away from the nondescript red building with the Tibetan prayer flags flying over the front porch, I notice for the first time that my feet are cold and that my legs are a bit numb.
But I am abundantly aware of the state of my spirit. My inner being is so light it soars above the snow-covered landscape and cuts straight through the airy clouds to the sun. My head is buzzing. I liken it to a runner’s high. This feeling. It stayed with me all day.
How could this be? My internal weather has leaned toward dark and stormy for months. My inner self a heavy thing dragging on the pavement. In one hour the storms, the weight dissipated. Later that evening, I attempt to recreate the experience at home. Again. Amazing energy flow and calm. I am on to something here.
After an on-again, off-again meditation practice that I abandoned right around the time I became a mother of two, and a missed opportunity to visit a Buddhist Temple in China, I finally summoned the courage to attend a service in Detroit.
I went in with no expectations and more than a little bit of anxiety (of the unknown) but my nerves calmed almost immediately after entry into this peaceful environment.
Even though I had no idea how to conduct myself in this setting, I felt welcome and serene. It’s not often that I get an undisturbed hour to myself.
By the time the service was over, I had a strong feeling that I had found a new spiritual home, one in which I could begin my journey toward healing my inner self and giving wings to a new outer life.