We had just finished some sun salutations next to the Rio Grande where we were living. Where wild animals were our neighbors and we had to hike to see another human.
Nymeria was covered in sunshine. Lying half on her dog bed, half in the dirt, panting through the largest smile as her tongue laid outside of her mouth and rested on some small rocks beneath her.
We adjusted ourselves to begin a meditation session, focusing on gratitude.
As soon as I closed my eyes I felt the open sun beam down on me. The inside of my eyelids turned bright red and I felt as though our mother was holding me. One arm around my leg and chest, dressing me in warmth as she whispered cool winds along my neck and thigh. I was exactly where I needed to be.
I felt more present than I ever have before. I heard the roaring Rio Grande pushing its way through the gorge. I felt a fly land on my leg, and welcomed it into my space, reminding myself how I feel sadness when I myself am shooed away. I wondered what else in this canyon it had seen.
I refocused on my breath. In slowly, out calmly. In again. I’m reminded about our gratitude. Oh, the many things I owe great thanks to.
I feel gratitude towards so many aspects of our van.
The insulation that kept our bedroom around 42° instead of the 20° of the wild outside our doors. The many windows that allow us to take in all of the beauty from each and every angle we can view. The ever-changing interior that allows us to shift from bedroom to living room to kitchen.
And the entire van as a whole – allowing us to choose our front and back yards as we please. Giving us the opportunity to chase our deepest desires whether it be the beach, a city, a farm, off the grid, on the grid, near, far, North, South, here, there. Where? Wherever.
I refocus on my breath. I tend to get carried away in my thoughts. Inhaling and exhaling, feeling my lungs gradually expand and contract.
A chill breeze comes by again just as the sun intensified. An awakening concoction of cool and warm reminding me where I am.
We are beginners in this new chance of life we’ve created. How fitting, through all of the setbacks, we begin this new life of ours in spring. Before this chapter we had thought we were grown, tall and beautiful trees, not realizing we were still mere seeds, barely starting to sprout and explore. On this thought, the sun strengthens again and I feel myself grow. Grounding myself further into this new life. Allowing my roots to reach further and breathe in the nutrients of new beginnings and opportunities.
I have plenty of fears for the future. Or, at least I did.
With each passing day I have found a way to look at the unknown not with anxiety and uncertainty, but with hope, excitement and endless possibility. As Alice said, I was a different person yesterday. I find much gratitude in being a seed. I look forward to experiencing what I grow into. I hope to reflect on three questions every few weeks.
Who am I?
What would make me feel fulfilled?
What am I grateful for?
I refocus on my breath as we near the end of our meditation session. I feel the rocks under my seat on my mat. I lightly rub the tips of my fingers across one another. I hear Nymeria roll over in her comfy pile of dirt. And as I open my eyes, I see the cliffs of the gorge, staring down at myself and the river, telling me it’s time to grow.