A Space for Song

I’ve had writer’s block. This has been a bad round of it. I’ve been able to journal, but inspiration for this blog has been elusive. I’ve let the times get to me. I’ve let the President and the death toll and the ridiculous mask controversy and everything else about this time…get to me.

I’ve stopped writing.

But what I haven’t stopped doing is praying.

Or loving.

Or moving.

Or meditating.

Or hugging my child.

Or thinking.

Or laughing.

Or learning.

And today during meditation, I felt a small shift. Tiny and seismic at the same time.

I’ve taken to meditating outside. I have a balcony that overlooks the yard. Old trees engulf it, so when I look up, I feel as if I am one with the trees.

Blue sky.

White clouds.

Songbirds flitting about and doing their thing. Just singing.

Continuing.

Nothing to stop them.

Undisturbed during this season of COVID and chaos.

Nope. They continue to sing their hearts out.

And today, I heard a new one. Smack dab in the middle of meditation.

And my focus shifted from breath to song; I had a moment of frustration. Didn’t that bird know I was trying to focus and meditate?

I smiled, then giggled, and then laughed.

And then the shift happened, a small crack that let in the light of gratitude.

Thank god for the song of the bird. Thank god for the blueness of the sky. Thank god for the quaking Aspen and fragrant Evergreens.

And with that, I returned to my meditation, full of light and warmth and a smile on my lips, as the song of the bird continued.