I’ve noticed lately that when I am sitting Zazen I become a different kind of being. This morning, for instance, I am breathing and counting my ten breaths so as to keep my concentration. I then realize that I have quit counting and am just sitting and breathing and being enamored by the fact that I am doing this action. I am taking oxygen into my body and I can almost feel it pulse through with each beat of my heart.
I breathe out and am totally in awe of the fact that my body is getting rid of its poison. I feel the coolness of each breath in and the warmth of each breath exhaled.
Being a hyperactive sort of soul, this sitting and listening to the quiet is especially delicious to me. I am gradually realize that I am hearing a king of melody and harmony in the quiet of my surroundings. My left ear is hearing all the soprano notes, my right ear is honing in on the alto, and my stomach growling is filling in some bass notes. The house creaks and it is a different bass note indeed. I hear the dog snoring and more harmony is in my quiet. The heater in the master bedroom comes on and it also brings more of my symphony of quiet.
A tear drops on my folded hand and it breaks the spell. I find that I am smiling outrageously.
I'd like to say that this is my yoga room but it is not. It is a room in the house on the Japanese Garden in Rockford, Illinois. Anderson Gardens if you are ever there. It is the only redeeming thing in the city of Rockford, beside JMK Nippon Restaurant.