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.

Click here for a spirit ride, once or twice a month.

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Creators and process (the drug of choice)