As a writer of haiku, I firmly believe that by condensing one’s thoughts and focusing on the immediate present moment, one can hone thought, feeling and sensation into a precise gem.
Sometimes the gem is flawed and that makes it all the more unique.
This morning in our mindfulness practice, we went through a systematic body scan and then after stretching our limbs, we each took the Tibetan Singing Bowl, invited the sound of the bell and offered a noun and an adjective to pinpoint our present moment.
Circling around, each of us rang the Tibetan bowl and added our short phrase.
Our body alive, our mind alert, our hearts opened and a chance for verbal expression, this day offered a rich, gentle session with a flourish of creativity.
Rain, snow and wild times hit Israel. The Sea of Galilee rose a bit. The Mediterranean smashed over the boardwalk in Tel Aviv, in Caesarea and winds were so strong that one pedestrian in Tel Aviv was swept up into the air and dropped in the middle of the road in front of oncoming traffic.
Here in the Negev, sandstorms abided but the promised rain never materialized.
This morning, as I headed out the door, I saw a small flock of peacocks wandering the kibbutz in search of fallen pecans.