Reverb 2011 DAY 7 Tranquilo (calm)

Sometimes the most beautiful, memorable moments are also the quietest. What quiet, beautiful moment do you recall?

     Again, so interesting that this prompt comes today because I woke up this morning and decided I needed to pick up my meditation practice again.  Before I went to Mexico in August,  I had begun a daily morning meditation practice.  I worked up to 2o minutes of sitting each morning.  I know most people think of meditation as sitting in silence and stillness; no thoughts, but some days those 20 minutes would be the noisiest of the day!  My monkey mind would be banging around and I would just be screaming inside my head, "Hey I'm trying to meditate over here!"  Regardless of whether I sat in stillness or spent my time chasing after my monkey mind; I always had the most beautiful moment immediately following the meditation.  My alarm would go off; I would slowly flutter my eyes open; look out onto the beach and the water in front of me and without fail have that moment (sometimes even 2 or 3) of perfect stillness and contentment.  That moment when you see everything even yourself and your thoughts from a place that feels both deep inside your being and far above you.  It's hard to explain in words but if you've ever experienced it, you know what I'm talking about.  
    When I was thinking about quiet moments, I also thought about those instances where, on the surface, you may have an ordinary exchange with someone or something but internally the moment opens up the world for you.  Those times when nothing is said and everything is understood.  I had my parents visit me for the 1st time this year.  They stayed for a week.  I was nervous.  I've had an extremely tumultuous and strained relationship with my parents.  Whenever I spent anytime with them I would need a day or so to recover.  But nothing happened.  The trip was uneventful.  No big blow-ups.  No snide comments about what a mess my apartment, hair, life was; just a normal visit.  As they were preparing to check out of the hotel, I told my parents I had taken care of their bill.  A small protest ensued.  My Dad tried to shove a roll of bills in my pocket.  My Mother started her familiar symphony of deep frustrating sighs and mumbled under her breath, "That really wasn't necessary, Cristina."
"No but I wanted to do it and it's already been taken care of so that's that."
Then they quieted down.  And sat.  And in that moment of stillness, I heard so much.  "Thank you."  "We're proud of you." "We love you".  Things they would never actually say out loud but I  got the message loud and clear.  I've come to realize you can hear so much in the quiet moments if you just allow yourself to listen in this world and not simply react to it.  For me, that is one of the gifts I get from meditating.  By watching my mind and seeing how it runs around from thought to feeling to idea; I'm learning that you can let thoughts and feelings and ideas come and go.  And it is in the moments following that true insight and connection arises.