Sunday, June 20, 2014
Duration: 15 minutes
Location: Patio, on the chairs.
Nick sets the timer and I close my eyes. I see the red haze behind my eyelids, and a few floaters. I’m snuggling into my coat…the breeze is cool and giving me goosebumps. I’m facing southeast. I raise my face and see the haze turn into orange and then a golden yellow as my head lifts higher towards the sun. I adjust my head’s tilt until I achieve the perfect orange glow.
And now, against that perfect orange, I see Ganesh. The floaters have arranged themselves into Ganesh. I see him, just his eyes and the line of his trunk, as though he is sitting inches from my face. He brings me peace as he sits there. I watch him, expecting the floaters to rearrange themselves as they frequently do, but they stay, and he stays. I say, “Ganesha.” And I think of Thatha. And I think of him praying to Ganesh every morning, and his is the name he invokes when he’s in pain, or getting up, or praying… I search for the phrasing he would use…and I can’t think of it. Ganesha, Venkateshwara, Ganappati, what was the phrase he used? I need to know it. I will ask Mummy when I am done meditating.
Ganesha. You have come to me when I look for peace. You were my Thatha’s favorite god. You are mine as well. I haven’t thought of you very much lately. And I’m not sure why, since you are the bringer of peace, the remover of obstacles.
You change in the orange haze. Your right eye gets closer, your trunk shifts as though you are moving it, you blink. I hear the wind chimes in breeze, I hear the mourning doves, I hear the breeze in the trees. You stay, you move.
I see you.
This is a nice writing.