There's a poem in the YAR office about wind- how the air currents around the Mountain remind us of the constant motion of life and draw awareness to our breath… the intake and release of air that connects us to air currents the world over.
It is impossible to ignore the force of wind at The Mountain. It slices through your layers on cold mornings, rushes around your room at night, carries your greetings to other mountain tops during the day. If it were not for the wind we might forget the passage of time here, how quickly the world is rushing by below. It makes me feel like part of our moving world, as if a part of me is travelling over hills and valleys and oceans as the rest of me stands here, laughing gleefully. It reminds me to look up and around, draws my attention to the branches of trees and the flight of birds, keeps my spirit lively.
"Let your hair down," says the wind, or "take shelter behind that post- what else have you taken the time to touch today?" It chortles and scoops up leaves, bidding me notice their graceful dance across my path. The wind makes even the horrible plastic grocery bag beautiful. I smile at these antics, pleased at the reminder of how life itself can be a dance, a series of glorious moving moments.
Do you remember dancing with the wind across a mountain meadow as a child? Throwing a kite into the sky to soar and dip? Tossing whirl-a-copter pods up into the air or spreading dandelion seeds with the force of your breath?
There is something undeniably magic about wind, this element of movement.
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