Smoky Mountain River Music

I go to the river’s edge to meditate….ahhh, anticipation. I sit. I take a few cleansing breaths. I listen. I hear some idiot playing his base. How dare he disturb the tranquility of this place, of my space. Can’t ever get away from inconsiderate fools. My annoyance is palpable. I automatically turn to face the culprit. I see no one. How do you even get a boom box to this neck of the woods? I turn back to the river. I start again. I restate my intent to sit in quiet contemplation and just notice what ever comes up. I notice the tension in my face. My squinted eyes and my lips pressed together. I notice my judgmental thoughts of the culprit and I find myself judging myself for being so judgmental. I notice my assumption that it’s a he. I gently scold myself. I notice a small shake of my head. I sit up straighter. I reach the crown of my head to the sky above and notice the ground under my behind. I adopt a posture of acceptance of what is. I close my eyes. Relax my face. Practice half smile. I turn my palms up as they rest on my knees. I breathe. I open my heart and listen. Just listen. And I hear the steady beat of the base. It reaches deep within me. I realize it’s the river itself playing her music. I laugh out loud. I laugh at myself. At my foolishness. I feel sheepish and delighted at the same time. I bring my attention to the river music. I notice her rhythm and beat. I notice her melody and harmony. I notice her high and low notes singing in concert. I notice joy well up in my heart. I feel expansive. I feel enormously grateful.

“For you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.” Isaiah 55:12

 

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