Once a week I take a morning run up into the park behind my home with my furry little friend, Max. It’s windy and steep and lush with new Spring growth this time of year – a feast for the senses. At the turnaround meadow, I sit in silence for a few minutes and meditate. Looking forward to this special quiet time at the halfway mark is what gets me out the door every time.
This morning after a few minutes of sitting in silence, I asked myself what intention I wanted to set for today’s meditation. LOVE: receiving and giving and giving and receiving. I asked for my heart to open more. I asked for the freedom to love more and the space to receive more. Truly, for expansion where love is concerned. Now, right now, you’re envisioning your own picture and ideas of love – where you need more, what kind, from whom and where you want to send your love. Well, by the power of intention and the practice as such, we set our intention and then we release it to be. Think nothing of it again until… until it hits you head on, seemingly out of nowhere.
The dog pants his hot breathe in my face, the meditation ends and we’re up and off to the day, running our way home.
Not so fast.
At a particularly lush and scenic stretch of trail meandering through the woods, I always stretch out my arms in a giant expression of gratitude. Flying through the air, soaring and breathing and flowing in nature. And it never fails, in this same glorious stretch of woods, I inevitably hear the buzz of a single engine prop plane — the kind Dad used to fly — never fails! Today, a day like any other but today, it hits me in my heart, my eyes begin to water and the crying takes over. Dad has come to say good morning. He has come to say good morning like he always does in this very same spot. It’s especially quiet in this portion of the forest away from the honks and beeps of the city so the sound of the plane is undeniable. Plus, since I’ve just meditated, my mind is particularly quiet and I feel peaceful within. It’s wild. It’s emotional and I’m awash with love. I’m now panting worse than the dog, crying, running, blinded by tears. And then, the plane buzzes off after a minute or two. I figure he has a lot of people to say good morning to and he must be on his way.
But wait, here he comes again, taking another air loop around back to say hi. The crying continues, the love is flowing and my heart is cracking open. Recalling my morning’s meditation intention it occurs to me that I had asked for more love giving and receiving and for my heart to open more than it already was. He not only circled around once or twice more but several times this morning reminding me that he’s always here. That there is no shortage of love and that if I ask for it, it will come. Finally, I spoke back to him telling him I’ll be ok, I know he is with me and love knows no limits.
Abundance is the only language love knows. Now, the difference between the love coming and realizing that the love has come is in the silence. That I was listening, that I got quiet within, then and only then was I able to be present for the gifts of love my dad bestowed upon me this day.
May you find your moments of quietude today and listen for the love.
And now that I connect the dots even more — thank you silence! — I recall Dad saying during our many hikes in the woods: “Listen to the trees.”
Thank you, Dad. I love you.
Meris Gebhardt is a High Performance Mindfulness Leader. Find out more at OpulentMindfulness.com.