Rain fell all day,
My office, lit by small windows was dark,
Modern classical music played,
I laid on the floor, feet up on the glass wall,
Legs straight, arms back,
Breathing slow and controlled,
Deep, full.
The stillness and the dark combined
To steal away the pain of tight joints and strained muscles.
Perfect, just perfect
Fifteen minutes passed,
I rose from my right angle refreshed, restored,
Distracted from the 2020 craziness,
The daily grind,
The non-finger pointing finger pointer.
None of it mattered.
Peace.

Yo, I’m next to my couch,
The wrong place to be tonight,
As I’m sitting in a mangled lotus pose,
Or whatever it’s called when you meditate,
The bowl is ringing,
My eyes are closed,
The crackling fire music is playing,
I’m so far gone that I can smell the fire…

RING!!!!

Damn, I forgot to turn off the phone…

One friend,
Then another,
Followed by another, and
Finally a fourth
Each calling with a dilemma, and issue,
Kind of a social ball for pushing me to walk away
From my mental siesta
As it seemed that I was the one, the Neo
Who could help each of them
Soothe,
Smooth, or
Groove to a beat that would relieve them
Of the ills of the moment.

They should have been on my couch,
Checkbook in hand, but
I couldn’t charge these guys,
I’m no counselor,
Friend, not a therapist,
Although, if they wanted to throw me a few dollars…

I’d refuse,

Because these are my buds,
If I can help them (one guy),
Listen to them (another guy),
Talk another through a virtual learning problem (a different guy),
Or give the last one a platform to make excuses for falling behind on his own challenge,
I don’t mind.
These are my guys, my friends
I’ve got their backs,
They’ve got mine.

Whether it be
Detroit style,
Philly style,
Wilmington style, or
Pittsburgh style,
We all speak the same language.

Now, if I could just get them to say, “y’all” with the eloquence of the Goat herder,
And not call when I’m meditating…

The whole day was a meditation.
An early Sunday run, breath in control,
Pace just right, company entertaining as always.
A haircut just as the shop opened,
Eyes closed after the stylist said, “Trust me.”
Eyes opening to freedom, no more gel, wonderful.
Easy lunch, a restorative nap, exciting professional golf,
Dream sequences and a chill real meditation,
Waves of relaxation and sounds of the beach,
Perfect.

So much unknown,
The whole world seems in upheaval,
Lately, my focus has been local,
Wondering what will happen with schools,
How sports will ever get to be played,
Will I make it to retirement,
Really not so global in my thinking,
But with the world shrunk down to a computer screen
It’s easy to get lost in self.

So the opportunity to exploit this was before me,
Sitting there with a “Kick Me” sign waiting on me,
For too long, I’ve been running, riding, lifting,
Focusing on the physical, gaining endurance,
Developing strength, getting stiff.
Over in the corner of my home gym rested a bench,
A home made meditation bench,
That let the toxic vapors escape the psyche when I used it.

Before COVID I was on it, since COVID, not so much,
Today was the time, time to get back to more than brute force,
To get back in touch with a freer pursuit.
I folded my limbs into a position of relaxation.
Quads balked, ankles rebelled, but the mind was resolute
Peace was supreme, and my meditative flow sound,
A subtle lumbar pop, a great granting of something known
Calm.

The prompt asked me to describe my favorite hiding place. I don’t have a lot of places that I go to get away. Running, biking, and swimming are things that come to mind as hiding places. I get lost in the rhythms of the exercise and only hear my breathing. It happens when I’m alone or running with the group. At least that’s how I remember it when I ran with a group. It’s been nearly three months.

Thinking about it, though, I think my hiding place is deep inside. It’s that place where imagination and nothing intersect, kind of an active meditation. I went to my fitness center, I mean basement yesterday, to spend ten minutes meditating. I got out of the habit of daily practice back in February and the mood hit me. Figuring that my brain would be all over the place, I set the timer for ten minutes. Two minutes passed before I heard the voice say that it was time to end the meditation. Even I was surprised by how quickly I drifted into wherever I was…I’m going with hiding.

That’s my hiding space, the deep places the mind goes when the flow hits…