Solemn Kindness

Solemn kindness. What is that? Is it what we are inside? I ask myself this sometimes in the mid hours of waking between dreaming and sleeping, between thoughts and silence. It's clouds of memories that envelope my existence sometimes and give me the power to vibrate within existence. Everything is vibration. Even the candle on the table or perhaps the finger of fire that strokes the air. That too is a vibration. It creates the sound of warmth filling existence with heat. Sometimes I look deep into a fire into its blue under core, into its heart and soul. It's late at night when this can happen, when the forest is alive with a different kind of animal. The other night I sat on a rock in pure silence and sensed the aliveness of the trees around me each talking silently, each giving their breathes slowly with solemn kindness. When I feel really empty sometimes I can really feel my feet against the ground and really feel each characteristic as they hit the surface that I'm walking on like I could sink up to my knees and seep into the Earth at a thought. This thought envelops me and and makes me feel good with solemn kindness. Wind awakens the being. There are times when the Earth is perfectly still, where not even a bird chirps as if the moment is holding its breathe and then a cloud of wind comes through and puts in a shiver of warmth. I've noticed that when I've been on a pool deck on a warm summers day when the sun is beating on my back and concrete below me is warm and then a light breeze washes the land and puts a light touch to my soul. It might be solemn kindness. That can happen under water as well deep in the water or the bottom of the pool where I let some air bubbles up and watch them reach the surface, watching each bubble flop around and change before it reaches the colored sky above me and goes back to its maker. It makes me think of water in a different way right then and there. I breathe air right now and yet when I'm underwater it gains a different quality. In reality those air bubbles that I let out at the bottom of the pool are not air bubbles, but instead CO2. In that moment I'm giving effortlessly. When those bubbles reach the surface they travel to a distant tree and give it some love. We give every moment of our lives without even knowing it. That bubble reaches a leaf and touches it and the leaf takes that bubble of CO2 and it might become brighter. When I breathe in I take and when I breathe out I give effortlessly and naturally like the tree does. Yet when I'm at the bottom of the pool this is paused for I can only give when I'm laying on the floor at the bottom looking up at the wavy film above me. Time wraps around your wrist sometimes if you wear a watch.