What meditation looks like (storm version)
Today, twice, in a harsh tropical rainstorm I had a surreally quiet moment.
It was this kind of storm, where the wind gusts so hard that for minutes at a time the shape of a tree looks like a woman’s hair tossed by a hairdryer.
Twice today in my travels I ended up underneath an overpass waiting for a light.
Just before going under the overpass — drumming rain upon the car, if you can entertain the idea of a thousand elfin drummers in utter drumming abandon.
Just after — pure stillness.
The storm was out there on the periphery — where I was, sweet and utter calm.
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