Read the story of Wabi Sabi to my kids the other day. I found myself in tears. Not sure why or how it happened. I don’t really shed too many tears these days. I’ve heard that certain medications can do that to you. In some ways, I miss it. I miss the emotional release I feel afterwards. I imagine all the feelings like vines twisted up, gripping my insides with their thorns digging into the meaty parts.
I forgot how to relax. In therapy, they talk about mindfulness. I never practiced it before. My therapist led me through it, and I instantly felt a rush of intense emotions. Tears flooded my eyes and rolled down my cheeks.
I used to use a visual image that I’d made up in my mind. Water crashing on the beach. I was never there, so it was mostly only visual. But when I sat in her office that day, she walked me through an image that is so vivid in my mind it’s like I can reach out and wrap my fingers around it and balance it in my open palms:
I’m camping with my sister. Everyone has gone to sleep and I lay awake in my tent. I quietly unzip my tent and open it to the dark forest. Everything is alive with sound. I tiptoe past her tent and walk over to the rushing river, furiously pushing jagged rocks for years until they are nothing but smooth stones. I put my feet in the water, and let the water run over it. I sit down on the edge and just sit. For a moment, I feel human.