I made it to the beach for my meditation this morning. Since arriving home, I've been trying to keep up a practice of waking, feeding the cats, and then placing myself in the middle of my living room floor (a comfortable distance from the heater) to sit in stillness. I'll be honest...it's been tough.
Without getting into too much detail, it's just easier to meditate when outside in a beautiful place. The beaches of Santa Barbara are definitely that. Inspired by my friend Alison's words, I made the crack of dawn drive on this first day of winter to the beach to sit by the surf as the sun came up.
It is beautiful this morning, clear and crisp. The tide is high. There is no wind. The water is smooth and glassy. The slap of surf comes in at steady 8 second intervals.
Sitting on the sand, the sun warming my face as it rose above the horizon, it was a joy to close my eyes and just be. Present. Quiet. Still. It feels good to be here. When my iPhone iQi chime went off I was (for once) surprised at how quickly the half hour had gone by.
I opened my eyes to a pod of dolphins right in front of me, 30 yards offshore, twenty or so fins, revealing themselves in intervals. Large and slow, their bodies surfaced and dipped, beautiful, weighty, blowing their breath into the low morning light. I followed them with my gaze as they moved their way east along the coast until they were lost as silhouettes in the bright sunrise.
Without getting into too much detail, it's just easier to meditate when outside in a beautiful place. The beaches of Santa Barbara are definitely that. Inspired by my friend Alison's words, I made the crack of dawn drive on this first day of winter to the beach to sit by the surf as the sun came up.
It is beautiful this morning, clear and crisp. The tide is high. There is no wind. The water is smooth and glassy. The slap of surf comes in at steady 8 second intervals.
Sitting on the sand, the sun warming my face as it rose above the horizon, it was a joy to close my eyes and just be. Present. Quiet. Still. It feels good to be here. When my iPhone iQi chime went off I was (for once) surprised at how quickly the half hour had gone by.
I opened my eyes to a pod of dolphins right in front of me, 30 yards offshore, twenty or so fins, revealing themselves in intervals. Large and slow, their bodies surfaced and dipped, beautiful, weighty, blowing their breath into the low morning light. I followed them with my gaze as they moved their way east along the coast until they were lost as silhouettes in the bright sunrise.
