Ladybugs and Laptops

Subtle delight in this scene of the play. On-stage. Off-stage. Curtain closes on the silent fields of mud paths walked by meditators & plantains traversed by ladybugs; the dear, the fawn, the lavender sky lingering above fir trees as the Dhamma hall rises from the tall grass. The unceasing stage of the body plays out the hours, breath by breath, thought by sensation.

Curtain opens. And now, light streams into the shadows of this Portland coffeeshop. The walls: burnt sienna & mustard. A vintage easychair. Paintings of the Oregon coast. Props of a familiar set. Quiet tapping of laptops... Music for the first time in days. The steaming hiss of the esspresso machine, this whirling hush of passing cars. And yet, the sound of my body hums through it all with the subtle, passing sensation of being awakened and soft like a baby bird.