I love how moss finds the quiet places to grow; they cozy into the areas that have been unperturbed for many moons. I find them in the middle of quiet driveways, the back side of the tree, or the stone that lies so very still no one can see her movement.

This all suggests an inherent beauty and benefit in stillness. In laying low and watching without pre-conception or division.

This inherent quiet is not the case in an area recently disturbed by backhoe, levelers, and other large machinery. (We've seen a lot of those these storm driven days.) Nor is there moss on paths frequently trod. (Both neural and physical.)

The quiet found in the mossy grove comes after many moments of stillness.
After many options have presented themselves.
After many storms have come
And gone.
After trying new ways, and new paths.

And when all is still and settled. When the gentle breezes blow and the rains fall, the lovely green of moss can and will flourish.

I would like to emulate lush moss this season. SO much turmoil could be felt, or responded to, or moved toward and away from. Instead, Maybe, by choosing stillness, I will see the roses that grow between the hard places. I will feel the nourishment of the rain and wind. I will hear the laughter in the trees. Maybe if I am very very still, even now, I will catch the song and can learn the refrain. Then I can sing with them, sharing my truth with theirs.

A paraphrased quote from Lama Anagarika Govinda seems apropos~

"Just as there is no competition between real gurus, There is no competition between different aspects of reality or truth. We can all sit at the feet of many teachers.

To have an initiation from a Guru is to awaken to our own Inner reality, which is beyond creed or sect,"

KD and others say that that inner truth is the divine, the connection to source. The love that you are.

To awaken to the inner reality, takes stillness and meditation, and can determine our course.

And once seen, we are forever changed.

I shall meditate with the moss today. ?