Clarity

Reading back through my posts, one would be forgiven the conclusion that Maria is a happy Nudist. Yes, on the inside...otherwise, I appear conventionally dressed. :)

But Spring officially arrives today, and I'm celebrating...so, off with the layers!

Pretend with me, for a moment, that being alive is a clear pond on a still day. The water is clean and reflective.

In the morning, there is a small stirring near the bottom...perhaps a fish waking up, a very distant earthquake, or an identity in search of food. The ever-changing sediment on the bottom of this pond swirls a bit, creates a small cloud. A careful observer may see this happen; a human mind may speculate as to the cause of this disturbance. However, the sediment settles again, to all intents and purposes a solid bottom of the pond.

Later comes a thirsty animal who drinks from the edge.
A silent bather wades in, creating a storm of mud with each step.
A scientist arrives with glass tubes and measuring devices.
In the heat of the sun, raucous children jump in, laughing and hollering, turning the water almost completely opaque.
A fisherman makes a few casts before dusk...rumor has it there are big bass in this pond.
Bats swoop in the very last light above the water, mosquitoing.
A breeze comes up after dark, ruffling the surface.
A poet wanders by, and sings an ode to the moon, who is clearly floating there...
Lovers delight in their shadowy kissing reflections while sharing some wine on the bank.

Pond visitors come and go; pond dwellers do their thing; the pond remains, unconcerned that it is a home, a beverage, a bath, a puzzle, a recreational cooler, a possible trophy fish factory, a cafeteria for winged rodents, a series of ripples, an inspiration, a sexual persuasion...it still is, silent in the dark, sparkling in the light, tossing in the storm. In between, all disturbances settle naturally. Clarity returns.

Our pond does not call itself by any name, and is quite happy to be a plan, a memory, or hearsay. Clarity or opacity do not affect the fact that the pond "exists". Pond is supremely undivided from its banks, creatures, purposes or reflections; there is no line between its existence or nonexistence. If not a pond, then a puddle--or a footprint in the sand, or a dream, or a mote of dust. None of these, all of these.

Our pond will equally support a duck and seamlessly open itself to a diver. It is equally deep and surface, earth and water. It is the expression of any number of needs and wishes, instantly fulfilled.

Today, we are the wish of the first day of Spring, granted.