Oct. 16: Zilker nature sites
Oriental Garden
Left…right…left…right…step…step…thump…thump…breathin…breathout…
The
repetitive rhythm of walking slowly through the oriental garden brought
me to a state of meditation, but it took a while. First, the
distractions around me held my attention. People shuffled about,
putting up their spherical lanterns. The other visitors pointed and
talked, disrupting the illustion of pure nature that exists in this
place.
Then, I saw the fish. They congregated
separately, then swarmed and formed new groups. Their society created a
graceful, elegant dance of swilling pictures and calming motions. These
patterns made me recall a billboard I saw on the way to the park. The
billboard for the New Blanton museum was separated into two sides. On
the left side, a picture of a swirling highway system blended
seamlessly into a looping piece of art on the left side. Humanity, in
all of its concrete-and-steel tandem glory, seems to have spontaneously
and unintentionally created forms and designs as beautiful of those of
the goldfish.
Three of the fish, were bumping
their noses together, and their bodies formed a perfect equilateral
triangle. At precisely the same time, I looked up to see a man carrying
three of those lanterns which once distracted me. The three lanterns
also were arranged in that form that reminded me of my Trinitarian
faith. The free associations of the fish, the lanterns, and the Holy
Trinity reminded me that all signs point me towards the Truth, or at
least my personal ideologies.
In order to free
my thought from the distractions around me, I focused on my stepping
motion – step…step…the alternating and repetitive activity reminded me
of catholic contemplative prayers.
Hail…Mary…full of…grace…breathin…breathout…left…right…step…step…
Just like these prayers, the stepping rhythm commanded my
attention. I focused on my stepping – left…right…-then my
breathing-on…out…and then, my self awareness was temporarily lost to
the natural rhythms of nature. I was able to experience the world for
the first time without my thoughts interrupting my experience. I ceased
making associations and began making a pure impression of nature in my
mind. The stoners beneath my feet were cool and soothing. The bumps
massaged my feet. The bamboo stalks were infinite in nature. The leaves
swayed. These objects of nature did not do anything to me; they didn’t
elicit seminal memories or free me to recall my faith. In meditation,
my surroundings simply existed. Their presence was all that was real.
This exercise in meditation helped me understand the importance
of contemplative prayer. When the rhythm of the prayer brings to me a
state of meditation, it is only God’s presence that exists. Then, in my
everyday life, I can remember what I felt like at that time of
meditation.