3x3 in. watercolor, "To The Left", M. Rattigan copyright 2014
"When, because of external or internal circumstances, there comes a change, we need to be able to go along with that change. Then we can become more comfortable, relaxed and spacious" --Karmapa, 2014.
I appreciate Karmapa's explanation, especially that 'spacious' is included: often when change is abundant and I begin to feel crowded by it I just need room to breathe.
Today was a difficult task in meditation. After a recent car accident several days ago, I am having pain and difficulty concentrating. Being outside again accompanied by my lovely dog Lily, she and I were trying to enjoy the warm sun and sounds of nature. She, more than I, actively engaging in nature: I was disrupted by her catching a rabbit and with my heart racing most likely faster than the poor bunny's, I charged my dog with anger and disappointment. She dropped the rabbit who scurried away, and I needed much time to try and calm down. Now with Lily in the house and me, again, trying to relax outside, I lost focus. My adrenalin was pumping, my heart still racing, and Lily pawed the door begging to return outside. I gave up.
Later in the day, despite my nagging pain traveling through my head, down my neck and into my left arm, I sat in a lounge chair on the deck and closed my eyes. Much better. Lily was with me again and I chose to let go of that which I cannot control. I did not want to bury another deceased rabbit, but I cannot scold her for her hound dog nature. I needed to let go. I needed to accept the pain. I just needed to be. In this second attempt, I gave myself the room to do that.
Interestingly, as thoughts and people and visions projected into my eyelids, much kept happening on the left. It was as if a diagonal split screen was set up and the motion stayed on one side. There was swirling and blooming, and my heart pumped harder than usual, making me feel a slight sway in my chest and torso.
My painting response, "To the Left" is a response the the left-sided visions as well as the blood vessels I felt pumping. It is a reminder that I am alive.
Thanks for listening.