It Only Takes Ten Minutes

I’m going to tell the tiny audience that reads this blog about something I don’t tell everyone. I meditate nearly every morning for about ten minutes. I don’t tell anyone because for “real” meditators, ten minutes is nothing and a bit ridiculous to talk about. For those who don’t meditate at all, it makes me sound like some wishy washy new agey type. So I kind of lose on both ends, if I talk about it.

I’ve been going on my balcony to do this recently, since summer has been waning. I put on a thick sweater and cover up my legs with a blanket. It’s already been as cold as 1-2°C (so around 35°F), but this morning it was 7°C. It was dark (this is going to be a thing soon, we’ve just passed the equinox) and I just listened to the night ending as I sat there.

There was a cat squalling, maybe having a tiff with one of the foxes in the village. I could hear the train pass. Then there were the “nothing” sounds of the outdoors, which is never nothing, really. A bit of breeze moved the leaves in the trees. Then the best thing happened; it sprinkled rain for a moment. The air changed in my nostrils, becoming more humid. It stopped and things dripped lightly, then a minute or so later, it rained again, a bit harder and a bit longer, before stopping.

How often do we sit still to listen to the rain? For me, almost never. I think I’m going to listen to it rain as I go to sleep, but I fall off before a I really hear anything. During the day I might look out the window, or curse it as I have to avoid getting drenched going out from one place and into another. I don’t often just sit there and listen. I recommend it highly. It’s beautifiul and it only takes ten minutes.