What a lovely metaphor it seems for sitting in meditation....the windows are open, at least for today.
How can something so extra-ordinary be so ordinary?
How can such a practice exist, and where in the body is the practice practiced? Where in the mind? Where in the heart? Where on the skin? Where in the marrow?
Is the practice of meditation "inside" or "outside" this "skin bag?" , or nowhere at all?
And who, ultimately, is practicing?
All the windows are open, at least for today.
A sparrow comes to the open window, perches on the outside ledge, and looks into the room. The cat sits beneath the window, sensing, not seeing, the sparrow, ready to spring!
All of this out of the corner of my eyes, as I sit in meditation.
And the smile spreads across my face, the tears fall....note to self: put the screen down on the window! before the sparrow flies in, or the cat springs out.
Gratitude, hope, great doubt, fear and calm, all in one teardrop, all in the gentle way the right hand supports the left hand in the cosmic mudra. The ultimate paradox.
Namu Amida Butsu!