Ruminations from the Temple

Kindness Before you know what kindness really is you must lose things, feel the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth. What you held in your hand, what you counted and carefully saved, all this must go so you know how desolate the landscape can be between the regions of kindness. How you ride and ride thinking the bus will never stop, the passengers eating maize and chicken will stare out the window forever. Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness, you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho lies dead by the side of the road. You must see how this could be you, how he too was someone who journeyed through the night with plans and the simple breath that kept him alive. Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. You must wake up with sorrow. You must speak to it till your voice catches the thread of all sorrows and you see the size of the cloth. Then it is only

I am in week 6 of my first semester of a master's degree program in Mindfulness Studies. As part of the Theory class, the professor assigned reflection and analysis of our practice, as it stands now. This is my reflection.  I started setting time aside for a committed practice prior to the term starting. I knew it would be required, so I figured that I should just get a start on it as soon as possible. So, after our move, getting settled, and recovering from graduation, I got serious about meditation. I picked up my yoga practice again in earnest, since it had fell by the wayside in my sprint towards graduation. But, it wasn’t until we started class that it really sunk in that I was building something consistent and enduring, as opposed to a hit-and-miss hobby or comfort measure in times of crisis. As I reflect on these past 6 weeks of meditative practice, I realize I have become comfortably addicted to what has become a morning ritual. Upon awakening, instead of lying in