Message on the rocks

July 27, 2022 – It’s one of those summer days that seem too beautiful to be real. Yet, instead of savouring it, I’m preoccupied with planning the perfect day.

I’m in Killarney, Ontario, about four hours north of Toronto in cottage country. The sky is wide, blue, and laced with wisps of clouds. The scent of pine trees fills the air. The waters of Georgian Bay, called the Sixth Great Lake, sparkle with sunlight. Loons, Canada geese, seagulls, and sparrows dot the landscape of water, rocks, and trees. Blue, brown, and green are the palette Mother Nature has painted, and I get an intense desire to be in it.

But the first thing on the agenda, even on vacation, is meditation. Instead of meditating on the couch in my hotel room, I’m called to go outside and be part of the living and moving painting that that is unfolding. Although it’s late July, it’s a chilly 15 degrees Celsius at 6:30 am. But even the crisp, cold air feels wonderful on my skin along with the warmth of the sun.

I walk for a bit just soaking in the beauty, then I see a spot by the dock with four cheery red Muskoka chairs on a large flat rock. I knew that was the place I wanted to sit and connect to the Earth while I meditated.

As I settled into a cross-legged seated position on the large rock, I felt grounded and connected. People were just waking up from boats docked across from me and finding their way to the coffee shop down the boardwalk. I closed my eyes and immersed myself in the sounds of Nature and people, the smells of the coffee wafting towards me, and the solidity of the rock below me.

It was a beautiful place to meditate, and I followed my breath, trying to stay in the present, patiently returning to where I was each time my mind carried me away on streams of thoughts.

One of the thoughts I noticed was being impatient about planning my day. Of course, the effort to be patient causes the opposite in me, and I am filled up with impatience. Arggh! I started thinking about what I would do that day. Could I take a hike to the Lighthouse before checking out of the hotel? Should I just take it easy and relax because it’s vacation and not about how much I get done? Do I even have the luxury of time to sit and meditate?

As I watched these thoughts, let them go, and returned to concentrating on my breath, I wondered why I always feel such a need to think ahead and plan, rather than enjoy where I was. It wasn’t a judgmental feeling but rather one of genuine curiosity … and I sat with it.

Then the inner voice I sometimes hear in this quiet space I create spoke to me with three clear messages: You do enough. You are enough. You have enough.

Whenever this voice speaks, I feel it in my soul in a powerful way compared to having a thought. This voice breaks through my mental chatter and settles a deep feeling of inner peace into my body. There is something different when you hear an inner truth voiced this way. I felt free. I let go of the need to think ahead and just felt the present moment rise and envelop me.

My thoughts quieted naturally without effort from me. The rest of the meditation after this message came went by in a snap, and I opened my eyes, feeling joy bubbling up. It felts like I was part of the day, not just observing it. I was in it as much as the trees and birds were.

I knew whether I hiked or sat around for the day, I had accomplished my highest intention for this perfect summer day: I enjoyed it.