I took my mat outside for pilates on the deck. Summer sky. Lilacs on the breeze. Baby magpies and northern flickers in the yard.
On my back in savasana (my post-pilates preferred cool down), I stared at the blue sky.
In Buddhism, the mind is like the sky. Vast and clear. Clouds are thoughts that come and go. Some disturb us while others delight us. Their origin and nature are the same.
I watched the beginnings of a cloud form. It morphed and grew. I watched another next to it. Then there were three.
A dolphin emerged, then a lion, a skull, a cat… and on it went like that.
From nothing to something to many things. They thickened and grew until the third cloud was an immense dragon with wings on its back.
I closed my eyes and sank into my breath. I lingered for some time while body and mind relaxed deeper.
When I opened my eyes, the three clouds were still wafting across the sky.
Only now, the sizeable dragon was a small rabbit.
The wisdom of clouds.
