Water as a Pathway to Meditation, Expansiveness, and Appreciation of Each Moment
Sitting on Dave’s boat on the lake one night, the water was gently disturbed and shallow transverse waves were created. Though the water was flowing towards us, the waves oscillated gently up and down perpendicular to the direction the water was moving. The end result was that movement and stasis were unified in a peaceful way that calmed my soul. The water made a soft lapping noise and the water visually resembled sound waves creating a strong sense of synesthesia for me as we sat and waited for dusk.
As I studied the patterns, I experimented with my shutter speed and discovered the light reflections could create linear water reflections too, though they were never perfectly straight since water can never be entirely frozen. It was mesmerizing and meditative and I suddenly felt a great sense of expansiveness and freedom.
We moved the boat forward out of the more sheltered area towards the wider part of the lake, where the sun was about to set beyond some trees. The waves were more pronounced and the light seemed to dance on them. An infinite number of patterns are possible when water and light interact and they evoke very different emotions in me, though barring stormy conditions I always feel a sense of serenity.
On a different night under different atmospheric conditions, the lake was less abstract, softer, and more ethereal. I feel so blessed to be able to visit this special spot and spiritually and physically bathe in such a healing and restorative land and waterscape. The trees and peninsulas help frame the lake and set off its shimmering beauty.
I have always felt deeply connected with water and so has Dave. When we sit and watch the water together, we become enveloped in its atmosphere and feel joined together and with all of life. The longer we sit, the wider the circle of inclusiveness grows. We all live on this planet together and somehow we have to figure out how to work together to smooth over our divides and conflicts.The greater our rifts grow, the more fractured our world becomes and peace becomes more difficult to achieve, whether individually or as a collective.
The lake has so many different faces depending on the time of day. On an early morning kayak paddle, the nearby peninsula was cloaked in darkness and the still water allowed for perfectly symmetrical compositions along the shoreline. I sat motionless while I waited for Dave to join me. There is nothing I like more than still water, except maybe still water with fog rising up from the surface.
The sacredness of this spot, just off the main part of the lake, must have been apparent to indigenous people in the area because there are burial mounds on two of the islands.
The stillness at dawn is perhaps my favorite time.
Another afternoon, I saw this beautiful sailboat across the lake. The sun lit up its sail and it became a flash of white gracefully gliding across the water. To me, this felt like the epitome of summer dreams. The wide open expanse beneath the soft clouds made any claustrophobic feelings I’ve been experiencing since the pandemic fall away and I took several deep breaths, thankful that my lungs can do this still.
Whatever type of boat we take out, the experience has always been a wonderful one and fortunately for Dave I love drifting. The first time we took a larger boat out, he accidentally hit something on the bottom since we missed a channel and we had to drift all the way back to the marina. Fortunately we arrived just as it was getting quite dark. The photo of the boat on the bottom left is of us drifting. I knew somehow we’d make it or find a place to get out. I wasn’t too afraid, since we weren’t taking on water. It’s hard to get really upset in such a beautiful place. Perhaps it was my yoga practice, but I’m sure it was also the spirit of the lake. Instead of worrying about what might happen if we lost the light completely and were still drifting and lost, I delighted in the views and recognized that our slower speed of travel was making it possible for me to be intimately connected with where I was in each moment. To have allowed myself to be overcome by fear, would have prevented me from experiencing the beauty before me and the lesson of taking each moment as it comes instead of focusing on positive or negative outcomes that might or might not happen..
Whatever we look at, it’s our attitude that shapes what we perceive. Sometimes we are lucky to spend time in places like this, which shock us out of anxieties or old stories and remind us to be in the present and be grateful. I know as summer turns to fall, I’ll remember these special summer days, though I will look forward to seeing how the lake changes with the seasons just as we will as we age.