Here I sit on my very favorite bench watching the ferry travel back and forth from Iona to Fionnphort. A marvelous spot to knit, write and better still, to BE. My companions, the sheep, know how to do just that. As I sit here, they are teaching me about silence, solitude and simplicity. Some barely move for minutes on end; one scratches his back on a rock; others graze about. Oops, one just coughed, but has now gone back to sleep.
I’m quite sure that my sheep don’t think about silence, solitude and simplicity; they embody it. Of course they don’t have a thinking kind of human brain, nor do they have that unique human ability to laugh, both of which get in my way of BEING in the NOW.
These sheep seem content to stay still until some need of nature arises in their bodies. They may not be able to teach me to be still, but their way is worth pondering. Their stillness is meditative. They remind me of the mystics who sit quietly in the presence of God. They are in the ‘thin space’.
(Internet is especially slow on the island this evening, so no slideshow is available.
I’m quite sure that my sheep don’t think about silence, solitude and simplicity; they embody it. Of course they don’t have a thinking kind of human brain, nor do they have that unique human ability to laugh, both of which get in my way of BEING in the NOW.
These sheep seem content to stay still until some need of nature arises in their bodies. They may not be able to teach me to be still, but their way is worth pondering. Their stillness is meditative. They remind me of the mystics who sit quietly in the presence of God. They are in the ‘thin space’.
(Internet is especially slow on the island this evening, so no slideshow is available.