We will begin our visualization with a quote from Pema Chödrön, When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times
"Letting there be room for not knowing is the most important thing of all. When there's a big disappointment, we don't know if that's the end of the story. It may just be the beginning of a great adventure. Life is like that. We don't know anything. We call something bad; we call it good. But really we just don't know."
You wake up, and for about ten strange seconds, you don't know where you are. Then you remember, you're inside the monastery.
Soft light filters through the open window. You hear the whisper of rain falling outside and the chirruping conversation of birds enjoying the morning in the courtyard. You recognize the cinnamon sparrow, the swifts, and the doves.
The air holds the delicate fragrance of earth and flowers.
You get up and slowly walk over to the window and sit down on a small stone window seat which commands a view over the terracotta roof to the fountain, the doves, the fruit trees, and the distant golden fields of sunflowers and the lines of grapevines stretching away for acres and disappearing into the horizon.
A man is walking across one of the grass fields with several white dogs that are working as a team to herd a flock of sheep through a gate. Occasionally you can hear him faintly whistling to them.
You try to imagine the different people who have sat in this window seat and observed the landscape which probably hasn't changed at all over the centuries.
The sun begins to shine, and a startling band of different brilliant colours arc in the sky above the low sprawling clouds which break over the faraway hills like waves. In a matter of moments, the rainbow fades away like a dream.
You decide to leave the monastery now. You open the door and walk down the long passageway through the dining room and out into the courtyard, and the sunshine. The people who were here yesterday must have left.
As you approach the simple stone fountain in the middle of the courtyard, a dove perched on the side of it flutters away.
You pick an orange from one of the trees. The fruit fits neatly in the palm of your hand and smells irresistibly sweet. It peels easily, and the flavour brings back sweet memories from your childhood.
Suddenly you smell a waft of incense, and when you look up, you notice a whirl of smoke suspended in a shaft of sunshine. You walk across the courtyard following the fragrance to a large room.
The room is uncomplicated, cavernous with rows of old oak benches, flagstones on the floor and a vaulted ceiling overhead. As you gaze up at the rafters, the height of it makes you feel dizzy.
The high rose window at the end of the room appears to float in the darkness, as if without any support. The colours it casts about on the floor, and the walls are jewels of deep red and blue.
In another corner of the chapel rows of white candles stutter and burn to mark the devotions to the absent loved ones from the people who have recently lit them.
The smell of frankincense is pleasant and not overpowering in any way at all, and there is a peaceful, sacred hush. You feel connected with your breathing and your heart, and for a delicious moment, time stands still.
Like all moments, this one has to end, as you feel it's time to continue on your journey back across the fields from which you walked the day before.
〰️ Clara 〰️
I am bringing my favourite outside experiences and imaginings to create visualizations that encourage peace and relaxation.