colourful
Selfies
I love taking photos, but rarely do you find me in a photo. I have friends who obsessively document their journeys through life by taking selfies. I prefer to look down the lens. For me it is more than the tourist shot. I see beauty where others don’t. A gnarly tree with interesting skeletal branches, you see a dead tree. Intricate carvings on a pot, beautifully framed, you see a pot sitting alone. Light and shadow on moving water, you see a pond. I share a few here and there and have documented some via social media. But mostly the photos are for me. A way to look back on the beautiful things I have seen through my eyes. The beautiful people, the ordinary man on the street. These images will always bring a smile or sigh on a quiet or reflective day. I see how taking photos can be a distraction, taking from actual experiencing the subject matter. But for me to sit and capture the beauty of a sunset or sunrise of a place I may not visit again is satisfying, I know I can look back and be reminded of how I felt, what I saw, through my eyes. This is my travel souvenir, much more apposite.
The Temple
Along my street, a Buddhist Temple sits. Once an Anglican Church, now the retreat, home for the Lama and his loyal followers. I was invited to attend a meditation evening by one of the residents. A quiet, unassuming woman who has lived the simple, uncomplicated life for a number of years. So this evening I wandered up my street, passed the man mowing his grass, the girl walking her dog, the hoon car parked haphazardly on the street. I entered with some trepidation as I had not been to the temple as a participant before. The sign said take off your shoes, leave them in the alcove. What next. I wasn’t sure where to go. A man came in behind me and immediately took me under his wing, a gentle man, softly spoken, who sat and told me a little of what was to occur. We entered the meditation room, walking through the incense smoke, it’s scent soft, not overpowering. I was enthralled by the colours. The richness of shades, the ornate altar. So here I sit in a circle with 7 strangers, 1 I know only momentarily and the Lama. He chants, a rhythm of indecipherable words, but it doesn’t matter, it is the tone, the sound, the rhythm that is beautiful. We are instructed to begin our meditation, silent meditation sitting cross legged and straight, counting our breathing. Mindfulness meditation. As we come back to awareness, the clock chimes 7pm, I am surprised that 45minutes has elapsed. The Lama, a man of calm demeanour, speaks of mindful meditation, much of the word is lost to me as he is difficult to understand, his English is difficult to understand, his accent is strong, but I know with familiarity comprehension will improve. I lie in my bed tonight, a calmness seems to envelope me after many weeks of unknown. Coincidence, maybe. I like to think, I have tapped my spiritual awareness and the dam is about to spill over.
magenta.in.may 