2 After Meditation
[Nilambe Meditation Centre, Hantane, Galaha District] By my kutir after meditation, an hour’s silence to start the day. The first sitting had ended with a quiet voice questioning the stillness:
can we be at one with ourselves and with other people?
can we learn to commune with the world around us?
The meditation centre is situated near the top of one of the highest hills in the central hills of Sri Lanka. I sat in the clear morning air looking out over the valley that extends away south and west. Below a nearby town was sunk in cloud, a heavy cloud that showed no sign of lifting, just hanging there obscuring the beauty of the surrounding countryside. At the far end of the valley a mountain range stands seemingly immoveable. Close by the branches of barren trees were picked out clearly against the rising white clouds, and one could watch the birds as they hopped from branch to branch. The sun had not yet come up over the hilltop and there was an invigorating chill in the air. I sat still as the scene gradually unfolded and it was a wonder just to be alive, all was quiet, all was clear.
cool morning after night of rain
bamboo is moved by gentle breeze
flowers bow down full of blessing
as tears fall from leaf to leaf
a solitary cricket greets the dawn
and in the distance a cock crows.
Yesterday evening dark grey clouds filled with water travelled south-east with a quiet briskness like messengers eager to bring good news to those who wait. Below them on the horizon the far mountains stood wreathed in soft white cloud, which appeared to wrap the rugged heights in cotton wool. Beyond the mountains the clear blue sky spoke of the infinite depths that lie impenetrable to the mind. Out of the valley a column of cloud rose on a thermal, and over it all the sun threw on eerie light.
Now this morning, the sun has just come up over the hilltop, and its rays are warming as I sit under a Kohomba tree. In the distance there is the sound of people working, someone sweeping in the courtyard, others digging in the vegetable patch. In a tree nearby, two birds chase each other through the branches, while below, the valley stretches to the horizon, a patchwork of green and brown.
Clouds follow one another overhead, breaking up as they rise to clear the mountain top. I often sit and watch the clouds forming and reforming, there is a great sadness in the watching, and a great joy too.