Thick air. I am riding through thick air. As I breathe it into my lungs, I can imagine the water droplets coating and comforting my lung tissue and the hairs in my nostrils actually are moved by the heaviness of it. My horse is sweating as he stands still waiting for instruction.
“Let’s just explore today”, I answer. Too warm to put a lot of effort into a ride. Let’s just see what we see. The recent rains have washed the dusty leaves clean and butterflies and bees fill the air with their sounds of exploration. Zooming past my face, a beetle barely misses us and I wonder what the hugeness of a person on a horse moving through space must look like to a beetle. Is there a wake where the air was parted by our passing?
When I am surrounded by this activity I feel one with it. The Lakota say,”Mita-kuye oyasin”. We are all one. People say those words and try to mean them but there is a feeling that will overwhelm me when it actually manifests. A fullness that starts to expand in my solar plexus and if I don’t begin to cry or sing or laugh or scream, I just know I will explode because it is too big, too powerful, too supernatural for this small human suit to contain.
The greeness of an oak
tree almost vibrates and to not acknowledge the plant with a simple,” Hi, Tree”! would seem rude.
One thing I know for sure, if I don’t stop and smell the roses, watch a praying mantis or listen to that loud mouth cardinal, I am not living the fullness that is there for me. I will not miss it.