This afternoon I sat in my meditation chair looking out the bedroom window, just as I’m doing now. The window is composed of four five-foot-long panes of glass, three vertical and a horizontal one at the top. I learned two years ago, as my condo was being built, that the top one was called a transom.
After an hour or so of meditation today, I opened my eyes. A puffy cumulus cloud was drifting slowly across the transom window, left to right. A bit of blue was on the left edge. I decided to stare. Mr. Cumulus was sure taking his time and I could feel its peace within me. How about that? No hurry at all. “I hope you’re listening, Bruce.”
As I gazed at the sky, I thought of my life. A couple of minutes later, the left edge of the cloud passed above the middle pane, and I reflected on my 30’s and 40’s. They were good years. Jody and I enjoyed each other. I enjoyed my teaching. I enjoyed the kids. And the cloud keeps drifting.
Now it’s over the right panel and other kids paint my life, as I volunteer at the elementary school nearby. I have a new home. I’m in a worldwide community of folks who are exploring consciousness. Life is good. But now the transom is mostly blue, and the white travels on. I try to hold onto it but it continues to float eastward, on a mission I guess. “Don’t go. Stay with me.”
And then … poof! The cloud is gone and my world is brilliantly blue. How peaceful are the endings.
I hope to live for many more years but “the future’s not ours to see. Que sera, sera.”
What will be, will be
