100-Day Solo Retreat: Beauty

I suspect last week's posts created a gruesome picture of the solo retreat and there certainly were passages of struggle - nearly every day.

But there were also events of startling beauty - also every day.

I hit an emotional bottom in the days leading up to Christmas day. I missed the traditional celebrations with family and close friends. I missed my daughter. And my knees hurt like crazy. Etc., etc.

But on Christmas Day, just as I finished morning chanting at 5:30 a.m. (a time when the world is extraordinarily still - not even mice are moving), I heard a Great Horned Owl in a tree above the house:

Who-Who, WHOOOO, WHOOO

It was really close so I quietly opened a door to listen. The owl was silent for a minute and then began calling again. And, as my ears adjusted, I could hear four or five more Great Horned Owls further down the watershed, each calling:

Who-Who, WHOOOO, WHOOO

A chorus of owls, invoking the world several hours before dawn. At that time, there was no Christmas, no loneliness, no chanting, no sitting, no demons, no house, no island, no owls. Just:

Who-Who, WHOOOO, WHOOO

Note: You can hear the Great Horned Owl's call on this webpage.
Photograph from the Cornell website.

Comments

[Ben Howard]

Thanks for this vivid recollection, Barry. I'm reminded of Bassui's koan, "Who hears the sound?"

Where I live, a number of creatures are up and moving at 5:30 am, most conspicuously the deer who amble down our street.

[Fa]

:)

[Moleary93]

Two weeks ago, I came out of a Zen group at a medium security prison here in Mass. The group has become an oasis for people desperate for some quiet, some respite from the daily pain of life behind the wall. As I walked out into the deserted parking lot, from off in the trees I heard the familiar "who-who-WHOO!"