Khan's Castle

Meditation this morning. . .

I had trimmed the tall stuff around the edges of the pond yesterday, the evidence of that destruction lay all around. I sat a few feet from the water looking down on reeds that, having been cut, floated in the edge.

It dawned on me that the small creatures I had affected with all that cutting simply dealt with the change. They didn't complain. I could see none sitting and worrying about it. If they were left alive—for surely I killed some—they just carried on without clinging to the way things were before I showed up, going about their lives in the new reality.

Now, in the pond are a number of good-sized carp, around a foot and a half, put there to eat the weeds. They seem to be thriving and from time to time as I walk along the edge, I would see the swirls of water that meant they were there.

This morming in the quiet, after a lovely moving fog had burned off in the new sun of the day, after I got the lesson from the small folk there, I saw the carp. Three of them swimming along slowly, single file, moving on to the next patch of weeds I suppose, on their own path, as I was on mine.

But this time I saw under the water that wasn't swirling.

I saw the carp.