21. Still

I meditate every single day. I sit still and breathe. I try to accept the thoughts as they come, and let them go.

Oh, but they come. Every couple of seconds my mind involuntarily regurgitates some new observation, like a fidgeting child unable to sit still. You’d be surprised at the amount of concentration it takes to think about nothing.

It’s a heavy door to an empty place.

The other day, I climbed a Scottish Corbett. It’s our name for a hill that’s a little bigger than other hills. Under a light breeze and a low sun, I sat down at the top and breathed. There was nothing else that high for miles. I looked down at the town I grew up in, and the road I drove to get to that hill. The distance made them minuscule. Legoland.

A whim took me and I closed my eyes.

My mind was still. My mind was calm. My mind was quiet.

Everything else was so far away.