Catching sight of something out of place is one of my strengths, so when I walked into the living room to meditate I immediately noticed the screen on one of the windows, where a new addition hung like a little ornament. I wasn’t sure what it was at first, but I took a whimsical reading of it as a heart – the visual embodiment of love, or an on-screen love scene. Approaching it slowly, I liked holding the idea of love visiting our home. Up close, I saw it was a moth, hanging upside down, perhaps peering out at the Chinese dogwoods in full bloom, pixelated from my view thanks to the screen.
Sitting lotus-style on the floor and softening my gaze, I slowed my breathing – allowing a small smile to barely tug at the corners of my mouth as the breath deepened. The day had been one of those purgatorial days – mostly overcast with occasional peeks of sun in between cloud cover – neither one or the other, and leaving the spirit feeling restless, unsettled. Meditation calmed that. The day would be whatever the day was going to be, and after breathing deeply for a few minutes, I felt the worry begin to dissipate, the way it always did.
The moth kept me company for the entire meditation, resting there until it was dark, then carried on along its own journey. The love remained.
