Awakening

Being where I am

is such a long-forgotten skill

but now I’m trying it again…

in this body, here,

and now,

breathing this breath,

cool and quiet, filling me,

then pausing, holding still,

then letting go, exhaling long and soft.

And walking down the tire-worn drive

between the woodlot on my right

and grass and trees and landscape on my left,

and beyond and almost out of sight, the county road,

each step a balancing my body knows.

And looking upward into trees,

their leaves, their separate shapes,

their variations on the color green,

kaleidoscopic, mesmerizing shiftings

in the bluest blue-sky breeze.

And now attending to the sounds of katydids

and crickets, birdsong echoing from trees,

a car and my awareness of

which way it’s coming from,

and when it passes by

and glides toward town.

And catching next the grassy scent

of cattle in a neighbor’s pasture,

bringing back old memories

of other homes and pastures,

children young and fishing in a pond.

But coming back to now, and here,

along the breeze another scent:

tea olive blossoms, sweet and bright,

a pure delight.  

O Self, return always to here, and now,

be in this holy life just as it is, and live

awakening.

9/7/19 for Mark Dannenfelser

In late August I attended a Mindfulness retreat led by Mark Dannenfelser, who had been one of the professors in my Spiritual Direction certification program in 2013-2015. The retreat gave me even more than I had anticipated. This poem is about taking a walk mindfully, as opposed to the way I had often done it, barely noticing my surroundings, or noticing them briefly between woolgathering episodes or planning the day or talking on my cell phone (or, often, praying the Rosary or other prayers, which I still may do while walking). The title, “Awakening,” is my word for the year, chosen January 1, and it exactly fits the experience of mindfulness. I have experienced awakenings all year and look forward to many more, especially as I continue to practice mindfulness through meditation as well as in the routine—and therefore not merely “routine”—activities of my daily life. Thank you so much, Mark!