Thursday, March 2, 2017 - Daily Notes, From the Editor
The parchment paper lies delicately on the makeshift altar in morning light, with marks I cannot read, for the language is older than English. It has a red stamp and is signed by whom I can only guess is the letter artist, the calligrapher, the one who brushed these strokes and curls.
The man I bought it from owns a Tibetan shop on Greenwood. He read it to me, translating, "May the supreme jewel, bodhicitta (which means compassionate heart) which has not yet arisen arise and grow, and may that which has arisen not diminish, but increase more and more."
I sit here in the mornings when I am brave. It takes courage to sit quietly in meditation. Twenty minutes is an eternity in which all the detritus can arise--internal and external--as evidenced by the loud trash compacting trucks in the alleyway this morning, echoing the vibration of my fear that time is slipping by too fast and there will not be enough.
I can feel these things in my chest, fear and garbage men. The meditation timer dings, the sound of a brass bell. I rest for a few more minutes as plans fill my mind, along with a classic, "If I had only done that differently" story from long ago.
I pause to place my hands on my heart and, like always, recite the prayer about bodhicitta growing.
Then I say, "thank you" aloud to the room, to the world. Thank you for this life, my angels, my family and loved ones and their health. Thank you for my home, and my job, and Lucia. Thank you.
These simple words unleash a fountain of saltwater tears that must be a sign. Spring is coming.
Laura Lowery is the founder, editor and publisher of Lucia. She does her best to lead a creative life. Whether triumphant or stumbling, Laura shares daily notes (that are often weekly) here on luciajournal, including stories, behind-the-scenes happenings, little doses of inspiration, and large quantities of curiosity and heart. She is pleased to meet you.