Fleeting Nirvana // Shelach
Ahhh. This.
It is a Tuesday. It is the summer solstice. I am sitting with a bowl of whole carrots and a mix of half hummus, half pesto. I am laying on a towel blanket at the park by Ben’s preschool. My torso and up is under the shade of a tree. My tush, legs, and feet are in the sun.
I’m watching the dogs and the cyclists and the runners and the walkers pass by on the riverpath.
This.
I feel at peace. Deep, deep peace. The afterglow of spending six and a half hours running thirty miles through the woods three days ago.
I’m not hungry for something else. I’m not thirsty for something else. I’m not overthinking. I’m just.. here. Partially under a shade tree.
I think about pulling the Thich Nhat Hanh book out of my tote bag. The book I’ve been reading at slower than a snail’s pace (see my Pekudei entry from a few months back), but I don’t.
I try not to try and recall where I learned the thought that I am thinking. The thought of existing in a certain way. Of being. How your energy changes the energy of those around you.
Not in a selfish, law of attraction, magnetism way. In the opposite way. How I want to feel peaceful so the people I surround myself with also feel peaceful. My family and my friends. Everyone I encounter, actually. That is a good way to live.
The morning after the long run I looked in the mirror at the ends of my long hair and slightly smiled. I remember thinking how I should trim the ends before the run. Now, the tendrils don’t bother me one bit. Truly. I like them there, a bit lighter from the rest of my hair with the sun exposure. This little example of self acceptance and self love is what made me smile the smallest of smiles. Loving yourself exactly as you are. That is a good way to live.
I think of another teaching from another teacher that I cannot recall. How the Buddha experienced enlightenment in a single moment. Admiring a rose. Blissful, fleeting moments of nirvana. The trained mind can experience them more often. Other fleeting memories of these brief blips in time flash gently as pictures in my mind. Flying kites and reading under shade trees and paddling on a mountain lake. Those are good ways to live.
***
In Shelach, the tribes receive the news that they would be wandering for forty years. That the current generation would die before they reached the promised land.
There is no arrival. There is no arriving. Not for us, anyways. Maybe for our children, or their children. But I don’t think they will arrive either. Life is just a series of departing from one moment and arriving at the next moment and then departing again and again and again.
Might as well try your best to enjoy the journey.
Shabbat Shalom, friends :)
P.S. Summer finally made her grand entrance! I’m thinking an Israeli cuisine Shabbat picnic is in order. I’m thinking a savory dill challah would taste great dipped in hummus…