Samādhi I: Tending Gardens

Centered on the middle way, wobbling in tree pose, hands at heart center, the noise ebbs as the quiet mind sets an intention, to hold close one from the sacred octet and try not to fall over. I choose Right Effort. I vow to surrender to the will of the universe, pulling the weeds of despair and planting the seeds of virtue, not those of a priest but of an honest householder, hands up to the elbows marked with the soil of my efforts as I tend the garden of my soul.

Samādhi II: Well Worn Practice

In dog, first upward then down, and when I bring my leg around to stand, first warrior, I pause to let my breath catch up, and flash on the image of my consciousness following along as a shadow. At rest I sit in meditation, mindful of my body. Over time, with the study of my breath, I have found my lips curl in the smile of curiosity instead of meeting each moment with fear and trembling or raucous joy. With each breath I am a student of the mind, remembering to come back, to return to my awakening instead of the dreams of distraction. I no longer fear the mind and its meanderings. I trust in the wisdom of the ancients. Their teachings are not a matter of belief but of well-worn practice.

Samādhi III: Fruits of our Labors

In Savasana, the pieces fit together as if fashioned by a master craftsman. Well-practiced action, or stillness, aligned with intention. We rest in the light we find within.