Fog

This morning a fresh, chilled fog rolled into my desert. The calm and serenity it brought soothed me to my very bones. Time slowed, my heartbeat softened, my lungs drew in as much as they could hold. How quiet the world becomes when blanketed in a thick wet mist.

It was the kind of fog I love to run in. My feet wanted to play, trembling with the anticipation of such a run. But, I was at work, caring for the best humanity has to offer. The run could wait until school got out. But it was nearly foiled. By 2:00 the fog turned into rain.

I love to run in the rain, the way the raindrops tap at my skin, the way they keep me fresh and powerful. I seriously considered not running because I need to not do anything silly. I have caught every cold in town this past quarter, and I really want to get healthy and stay healthy. The rain might be a little cold to run in without risking too much. If I knew for certain I could run the whole 3 miles without having to stop, I would. Instead, I just ran in the neighborhood close to home. It was just a mile, but it was perfect. Just how I remembered. And yes, it was too cold for a full 3 mile run.

I remembered experiencing today’s weather at Mount Hood. That was a very sweet, sweet five days! So much green, and wet, always wet. I thought time would stand still. I am so glad we went there. It’s a great picture to hold from time to time, when the world gets crazy around me.

I love fog, whether it is the mist in the air, or the mist in my mind. I love knowing that you can’t see through the fog to your end goal. You can’t see where the road will take you, you can’t see the mountains or the valleys. The rivers are as obscured as their bridges. You can’t see the course, so you have to have faith that the path you are on will take you where you need to be. You have to use all of your senses, and listen with your heart and soul.

I love the rain, too, whether it is coming from the clouds, or coming from heaven. It washes away the grunge of life, and leaves your life smelling fresh and new. It enriches the flowers that fill your world, and keeps you green and alive.

Well, enough of that.

Last night yoga was wonderful. It was a restorative class, and I’d never done anything like that before. It was 1 1/2 hours of pure meditation interrupted only by a change of positions. I was relaxed and ready and at no time in danger of falling asleep. I had some pretty interesting visions, and I do intend to paint some of them.

One of the most wonderful things that happened was one of the other ladies there decided to take care of me. She kept helping me set up props and cover up and everything. It’s been a really long time since anyone wanted to take care of me like that. Sometimes you don’t know you are even missing something until someone gives it to you. When I thanked her she responded as though she was surprised I thought it was special. There are so many wonderful people in this world. So many people who God works through.

I really do love to meditate. I am currently doing it at odd times, and not necessarily every day. It helps me though. So, I am going to clean and re-arrange my room so that I will have a little place just for meditating. That’s right, no more pile of dirty cloths, a hamper is on its way! (yes, I’m a natural born clear to the core slob! - I love that about me.) I will be obtaining a bolster and some good blankets. I will buy pretty candles and some more Gonesh - perfumes of ancient times - sticks to burn. Maybe even some silky sheer fabrics to drape around my seat (always being careful of the flames!) for a soft and luxurious effect. Of course if I do this I will never want to leave.

I also plan to do more meditations before painting. Some of the visions I had last night were really intense. I can’t wait to start. Obviously, that’s why I’m sitting at the computer typing. But this is important too. It is a really nice way to put my thoughts in order. Besides, this, too, is an art! Seen by few, liked by some, hated by many. What makes it art is the way it interprets my connection to all that is. As long as it holds genuine meaning for me, as long as it is honest, as long as it reflects my gratitude, it is perfect.

If I sit quietly in the dark, by my window, I will hear the rain drops falling to the earth. I could never find a more perfect melody to meditate to.