12 The Intensity of Stillness
On a number of occasions recently I have had intense sensory perception, usually at, or following, evening walking meditation, which I do as a concentration exercise, the only one of the day. Sometimes I have been overwhelmed at seeing every stone in the gravel path clearly and at the same time; or to hear the sounds of the night each distinctly and interwoven; to see the tonal range in the jungle around, or the colour of the earth. At times I am alone here for days on end, and with prolonged periods spent in meditation. I think that at such times there is a stillness that comes upon one, where thought is no longer clouding out reality, and then the fullness of life floods in. Usually we filter out sensory information or are caught up in thought, being elsewhere, disregarding the present. It must be possible to so cleanse the mirror of the mind that we become entirely present, each moment a moment of eternity.
the fields have now been replanted
and green is seen against green
a girl stands watching a snake
while women are resting from work
in silence a squirrel descends
we look each other in the eye
complete attention and awareness
one in fear, the other in love
there’s tension as the minutes roll by
and afraid of the worst he flies
running so fast up the pol tree
no fear he may fall in his flight
and the girl now calls to her mother
numbering the bundles she has made
the women are back working together
while I watched the squirrel fly by
On rising this morning I could see a light coming through the slats of the door – very strange, it is only three days after the new moon. Outside the sky was lit up a silvery blue in the south, like the arrival of dawn – but at the wrong time, and from the wrong direction. The jungle was very still, with the only sound being the chirping of crickets. The sky was covered in cloud, and the cloud was lit by the light. There are no towns to the south. In the north the heavens were dark, gloomy, and heavy. The jungle continued quiet, but later the faint sound of Pirit being chanted floated across the tree tops. The light remained mysteriously, quite bright enough to see by. A deep quiet came upon me, there was a suspension of thought as I sat and awaited the outcome, attentive, open.
It was well over an hour before the first sign of light from the east announced the dawn, which gradually enveloped the other light; and at this sign the jungle once more came to life, with the frogs having the last bellow of the night; the crows caw-cawing through the air, or whooping in the trees; the cocks crowing; and the Pirit ending. The light of day had arrived.
parrots:
quickly they go through the air
squaking as they fly
green passing through green
too fast for the eye
to make out name and identity
butterflies:
dancing they go through the air
butter-flittering on the wing
all colours and sizes
occasionally pausing
a wonder seen for a moment
in summer fashion
man:
slowly he goes across the land
clumsily jumping the cutting
brown he is, as the earth
the centre of attraction
we know his name
we know his life
how quickly he passes away