Another Sunday, it was feeling more like summer yesterday and I was on my knees – weeding. This is not an activity I would have thought conducive to meditation but it’s amazing just how absorbing and therapeutic that task can be. The silence was broken by an occasional cry from a buzzard way overhead or sparrows squabbling in the hedge and bees delighting in the explosion of blossom.
Sunday Morning
I am on my knees, weeding.
Thugs invaded the gravel path
so one by one they’re evicted
re-housed in a trug.
I am on my knees, weeding
yet this isn’t just gardening.
The steady repetitive action
becomes a meditation.
I am on my knees, weeding
‘When you are sweeping a path,
know you are sweeping a path.’
a well-known Zen lesson.
I am on my knees, weeding
I know I am weeding.
Yes it is Sunday morning
but I am on my knees – weeding.
No penance, no punishment
it’s a therapeutic meditation.
It’s Sunday morning –
I am on my knees, weeding.
At the end of the day, one of our beautiful sunsets – just inviting me to gaze, and soak up the peace. All the birds have gone to roost and there’s no wind to rustle the leaves.
Life's a Beach 