Here's that #WaterMeditation mentioned above.

https://climatejustice.social/@H2O/109910351260417498

#WaterMeditation #WaterThoughts

Today I'm thinking about #waves, the moon and the water and the constant back and forth of the tides.

When do we feel the waves? Maybe when we're walking on the shore and the waves roll in, pushing against our ankles. If we go in deep enough, we feel our body being pulled one way or the other. The waves can pull our feet out from under us. There's a power to the waves. It’s irresistible.

We talk about waves of grief. Waves of anxiety, waves of fear. Usually we’re speaking of something that threatens to overwhelm us.

But waves can also rock us gently.

Why do we rock our babies when they're tiny? We know a gentle back and forth motion, governed by the heartbeat and the swing of our own bodies, soothes them. We move from foot to foot with the child in our arms. The child is comforted and becomes relaxed, they close their eyes and you can gaze smiling on their face.

Think of being on a boat, moored in a safe harbor. The water underneath us is rocking, rocking, rocking us into relaxation.

What if our waves of grief or anxiety or fear are rocking waves and not overwhelming waves? Maybe that wave that comes is to comfort us in our grief. To reassure us in our anxiety. To love us through our fear.

When the wave comes, let yourself experience it. Let it hold you up. Let your body process it. The wave can be there to comfort you, to bring you back into sync with your nature. As you calm, feel the rocking, the soothing.

Maybe the waves that come are really to do what you do to that precious infant, holding you in their arms, rocking you back and forth until you again feel safe.

So don’t fear the waves. Close your eyes, and picture the water that holds you in its arms gazing down on your face and smiling.

#WaterMeditation #WaterThoughts

The other day we had a whole day of #rainbows.

We had to do a road trip up the coast and then inland on a misty day, and the rainbows were everywhere. They were following us.

We'd be driving along and our angle to the sun would change as we turned a curve, and a rainbow would appear outside my window. We'd see them way off in the trees. We'd see them over the parking lot. It was a day of rainbows.

Rainbows are amazing because when you break it down, all they are is the sunlight refracting through a certain kind of water vapor. The #rainbow looks like it's an independent thing in the sky, but it is 100% dependent on your eyes to exist. The rainbow you’re seeing has no reality if you’re not looking at it. They're all about where you're standing in relation to the water vapor and the sun. The sun needs to be behind you at a certain angle to the water droplets so that you get the effect of the light being refracted through the prism.

Rainbows therefore are all about perspective.

Physically, that's all that's happening. But mentally a rainbow appearing across an overcast sky is always so astonishing and refreshing and hopeful and glorious. You’ll be talking about something and mid-sentence you’ll say, “Oh, there's a rainbow,” and then you stare and stare at it as it changes solidity and form right before your eyes.

Sometimes it’s a full rainbow across the whole sky in a big huge glowing arc. Then the clouds change, and the rainbow shifts, and parts of it blot out, and other parts get brighter, and then it glows again for a moment before it is gone.

Rainbows blaze and then they fade. They are such a miracle.

That day, we saw them out over the ocean. We saw the bottom 30 degrees of one on the left and then way over on the right there was the other bottom 30 degrees. We saw a huge glowing light across the entire sky. At some points there was even a double rainbow as the light refracted multiple times through the vapor.

Often a rainbow seems right at the edge of a super cloudy, super overcast area and a super bright, beginning to be sunshiny area. They are the boundary between light and dark.

I love rainbows. I love all that they have meant to humanity. For all of history ever since the early humans raised their eyes upward to see this amazing thing in the sky, rainbows have always given hope, and the joy of them is deep in our race. That rainbows mean something to us, even though perhaps in the cosmic sense, they don't mean anything at all.

Where are the rainbows in your life? What do rainbows mean to you?

#3GoodThings @3goodthings

1) mini road trip with my honey through a #NationalPark to the town on the other side where they have our favorite #balsamic vinegar in the #OliveOil store
2) beginning to have the fingerings down well enough to play the #Pachelbel Canon (easy version) with expression on #piano
3) realized in my morning #meditation that waves of grief don't have to overwhelm you; they can be comforting waves that rock you gently (#WaterMeditation on this to come)

#WaterMeditation #WaterThoughts

For today's meditation, you may need to suspend the usual societal squeamishness about bodily fluids. If that can work for you, please enjoy the following.

Today I thought about coming from the water. Specifically of a process that gave me a birth.

When we talk about the sperm impregnating the egg, it's not flying through the air. It's not digging into a tunnel. It is swimming. It is swimming through what is predominately water to get to the prize, the egg.

Our very inception occurs in water surrounded by water. And then, as we stay surrounded by water, the amniotic fluid is filling our nose, and this is the water our newly developing arms and hands and legs are moving in. I don't know if we have a sensation of floating, because there is still gravity. But we do have it surrounding us every moment as warm, thick water. In the birthing process, we emerge from the water. I can almost envision it as coming headfirst out of a body of water into the air for the first time.

So today in meditation, I contemplated being out in the air for the first time. Our accustomed source of oxygen and food is cut off, and we are forced to take that first breath of air into our lungs to replace the liquid that had been bringing us oxygen.

What a jolt to the system. Most of us can now breathe deeply, and it's very rewarding. But I wonder what that first breath was like.

Hold your breath. Hold your breath for as long as it's comfortable. Imagine being that babe with all the oxygen coming to you through the umbilical cord. And then you're out in the air for the first time, you have to get oxygen on your own. Take a breath. You've taken the first step into self-sufficiency. Something you have been reliant on the womb for you are doing on your own.

Then comes a moment where you experience hunger. You have to call out for food, food presumably comes to you, and you need to take it in on your own through your own digestive system. This is your second step into your ability to do things on your own.

The water before connected you to the whole of the human race. You were not on your own. You were a part of something. Now you are a single unit and will be for the rest of your life. Yet you are still part of something. It's the mystery of being separate but one.

If you are a person who gives birth yourself, you'll become the encapsulation of water for that new life. Do you still have all that water?

It's a moment we only have once, this emergence from the water. What does that mean to you? How can you reconnect?

I really enjoy looking for the water around me: where it is now and where it has been. (This is one of the practices in my #WaterPhilosophy https://climatejustice.social/@H2O/109628056173007583.) #WaterMeditation

This fall I was at a local farmer’s market. Things were slow as the day got started, so I played the #FindTheWater game. And it was everywhere!

• Water bubbling and boiling and cooking at the other booths
• Water to drink; other drinks with water, like coffee, juice, soda
• Food, filled with water itself and needing water to cook
• Donuts!
• Humans, everywhere walking around with their 60-70% water makeup
• The overcast sky, covered with visible water
• My breath steaming my glasses
• Cars driving by with coolant systems
• Buildings with plumbing
• A little water-filled child getting a donut with her daddy
• A dancing child; dancing water
• A dog on a leash; walking your water
• My eyes water from the wind; my eyes are water; I’m seeing through water
• Trees and plants all around, hunting for water in the soil and atmosphere and filling themselves with water
• Birds are flying water
• Insects buzz by; buzzing water
• Friends greet each other with a hand wave; waving water

I want to start playing this game with small children. Who knows what they will see?

Look at the photo with the post. Where can you find the water?

#WaterMeditation #WaterThoughts

Today I contemplated my #WaterBottle.

Perhaps you, like me, have a water bottle nearby as you are reading this so that you can take a sip whenever you are so moved. Maybe it’s a translucent bottle and you can see how much there is, or it’s opaque and when you lift it you can feel the water sloshing within.

Think about the water in the bottle. It most likely came from a #reservoir or an #aquifer, or some other source that you’ve chosen or that your municipality uses.

That water probably came from rain that fell either on a #mountaintop to create #SnowPack that would later melt into a #river to fill a reservoir or that fell on the ground and seeped through the #soil and #rock to refill the aquifer.

Water from a puddle outside my house might have evaporated and traveled the long miles between us to bathe your water source in a wild #thunderstorm or a gentle #SpringShower. Then it flowed through the system to wind up in your bottle.

Take a sip now. Feel the water in your mouth. Feel how your body yearns for it, welcomes it. Let it slide down your throat to be literally incorporated into your body, replenishing and cleansing every cell of your being.

Water makes possible every function you need to stay alive. We share the same relationship with water. We all need it in the same way. No matter what our differences, we are united in our relationship with water.

Remember the water today.

#WaterMeditation #Meditation

Today I’m soaking myself in memories of the bodies of water that I’ve been in. And for all the times I’ve looked at the ocean, walked by it, loved it, I’m realizing there’s been very few times, in fact, only once, that I was actually immersed in it.

I’ve been in many lakes, I’ve been in a few rivers, and countless pools, but even though I’ve often lived by the ocean, it was always in regions where the water was breathtakingly cold.

One precious day, though, I am in a sunny clime where the water is bathwater warm.
I jump off the boat into the water — crystal clear blue water under a shining sky.

I float there embraced by the salt water from which we were born. My eyes are closed in the bright noonday sun above me, my ears bob under the surface, my back arches slightly to stay afloat, my arms and legs waft freely and luxuriously.

I’m at one with the water. I feel its hug, its buoyancy, its scent, its texture. I hear the lapping of the gentle waves against my eardrums. I am at my source.

I’ve only done it once. But it lives in my memory like a heartbeat that never stops and a flow that keeps me moving.

What bodies of water have you been in? What did it feel like? What do you remember?

#WaterMeditation
#HealthyOcean

Walking along the #ocean beach on a crisp fall day, I see the abundance of life at my feet. The foam indicates a healthy #ecosystem, with nutrients flowing in to feed the life beneath the sand.

I feel at one with it as it curls at my ankles knowing that I too am part of this flow, this tide, this life. I am connected to all the oceans in the world from this tiny spot I occupy on the shore. The beach is mine and it is all life's. The life is everywhere and it is within me.

The #water within me responds to the water all around me. I feel its flow. I am part of something bigger than myself. I belong.

#WaterMeditation

The #RiverSeine, #ParisFrance, in 2017.

A #peaceful moment for #water that day and in that place.

#Meditation on #Gratitude

On my path as I move from a religious belief in a higher power to a more concrete sense of awe and appreciation for the world and the #water around us, I’ve contemplated gratitude.

Before in my life, I’d often feel gratitude *for* something. “So grateful for this beautiful day.” “So grateful for this meal.” Lately, though, that feels like I’m sending gratitude up into the ether. The unspoken concept is that I’m being grateful to some amorphous force that magically provided these things for me.

But that’s not what’s really happening. Everything I have that I’m grateful for was, in fact, provided by the efforts of someone. So now, I’ve changed my preposition. Now I’m starting to consciously be grateful *to* someone, rather than for something, and voicing that gratitude out loud. Meaning, I’ll say, “I’m grateful to you, friend, for getting me outside for this sunny walk.” “I’m grateful to you, partner, for making this wonderful meal.”

This can extend outward in ripple upon ripple, even as water does, to those who keep the areas I hike walkable and clean, the farm and transportation and grocery people who bring the food to my table. It can even extend to myself. “I’m grateful to myself for making the choice to go on a hike today.”

Now, when I feel gratitude, I look for the actual source of the blessing and then voice that gratitude to that person so they can know what impact their effort had. In that way, rather than my gratitude floating away to no purpose, the ripples continue, right here, right now, in this world—which is where I am and where I want to be.

#WaterMeditation

#Meditation on #Gratitude

On my path as I move from a religious belief in a higher power to a more concrete sense of awe and appreciation for the world and the #water around us, I’ve contemplated gratitude.

Before in my life, I’d often feel gratitude *for* something. “So grateful for this beautiful day.” “So grateful for this meal.” Lately, though, that feels like I’m sending gratitude up into the ether. The unspoken concept is that I’m being grateful to some amorphous force that magically provided these things for me.

But that’s not what’s really happening. Everything I have that I’m grateful for was, in fact, provided by the efforts of someone. So now, I’ve changed my preposition. Now I’m starting to consciously be grateful *to* someone, rather than for something, and voicing that gratitude out loud. Meaning, I’ll say, “I’m grateful to you, friend, for getting me outside for this sunny walk.” “I’m grateful to you, partner, for making this wonderful meal.”

This can extend outward in ripple upon ripple, even as water does, to those who keep the areas I hike walkable and clean, the farm and transportation and grocery people who bring the food to my table. It can even extend to myself. “I’m grateful to myself for making the choice to go on a hike today.”

Now, when I feel gratitude, I look for the actual source of the blessing and then voice that gratitude to that person so they can know what impact their effort had. In that way, rather than my gratitude floating away to no purpose, the ripples continue, right here, right now, in this world—which is where I am and where I want to be.

#WaterMeditation

#WaterMeditation
(first pubbed 11/18/2022)

In this morning’s meditation, I felt my own pulse.

I was sitting on my heels, back straight to the ceiling, my knees bent in front of me, a position that has the effect of diminishing the circulation to my legs. I can then feel the flow more distinctly in my upper body.

So the pump, pump, pump, of my heart pushing blood, which is mostly water, could be felt in my chest, at my neck, in my abdomen, even in the upraised palms on my thighs.

And I thought about that continuous movement of water, through my body, carrying all that my body needs, keeping me alive. There is no life without that water flow. My body is water in continual motion.

How did I get that water? I eat the fruits of the earth, drink from its wells and streams. I am part of the water cycle, borrowing this water from the earth as it processes through my body and does all that I need it to do. I release it in a cycle that returns it to the earth, either through daily processes or in my ultimate death. I owe everything to this system flowing smoothly.

When my meditation is complete, I slowly unfold, experiencing that sharp tingle indicating that the water is again flowing to my lower extremities. I contemplate that resurgence, welcoming it even as it is uncomfortable. I am refilled, refreshed, by the water flow.

#water #meditation #flow

#MorningWalk #WaterMeditation

#WaterMeditation

In this morning’s meditation, I felt my own pulse.

I was sitting on my heels, back straight to the ceiling, my knees bent in front of me, a position that has the effect of diminishing the circulation to my legs. I can then feel the flow more distinctly in my upper body.

So the pump, pump, pump, of my heart pushing blood, which is mostly water, could be felt in my chest, at my neck, in my abdomen, even in the upraised palms on my thighs.

And I thought about that continuous movement of water, through my body, carrying all that my body needs, keeping me alive. There is no life without that water flow. My body is water in continual motion.

How did I get that water? I eat the fruits of the earth, drink from its wells and streams. I am part of the water cycle, borrowing this water from the earth as it processes through my body and does all that I need it to do. I release it in a cycle that returns it to the earth, either through daily processes or in my ultimate death. I owe everything to this system flowing smoothly.

When my meditation is complete, I slowly unfold, experiencing that sharp tingle indicating that the water is again flowing to my lower extremities. I contemplate that resurgence, welcoming it even as it is uncomfortable. I am refilled, refreshed, by the water flow.

#water #meditation #flow

#WaterMeditation

In this morning’s meditation, I felt my own pulse.

I was sitting on my heels, back straight to the ceiling, my knees bent in front of me, a position that has the effect of diminishing the circulation to my legs. I can then feel the flow more distinctly in my upper body.

So the pump, pump, pump, of my heart pushing blood, which is mostly water, could be felt in my chest, at my neck, in my abdomen, even in the upraised palms on my thighs.

And I thought about that continuous movement of water, through my body, carrying all that my body needs, keeping me alive. There is no life without that water flow. My body is water in continual motion.

How did I get that water? I eat the fruits of the earth, drink from its wells and streams. I am part of the water cycle, borrowing this water from the earth as it processes through my body and does all that I need it to do. I release it in a cycle that returns it to the earth, either through daily processes or in my ultimate death. I owe everything to this system flowing smoothly.

When my meditation is complete, I slowly unfold, experiencing that sharp tingle indicating that the water is again flowing to my lower extremities. I contemplate that resurgence, welcoming it even as it is uncomfortable. I am refilled, refreshed, by the water flow.

#water #meditation