Days of Silence Always Stir Up Transcendent Magic

Today I did light kundalini exercises in our sunny, green front yard, with curious horses looking on, wondering what all the snorting was about.

Birds gravitate to our yard when I get quiet and empty my mind, or make a video for you, and today they gathered around and chirped most enthusiastically.

When I take days of silence birds are particularly responsive to me. They'll gather round and chirp quite manically sometimes, or do odd aerial maneuvers that seem designed to entertain. Birds I've never seen or heard of appear, and real or not, they're stunning and magical. The miracle is happening all the time--it's there when we slow down and empty our minds enough to tune into direct experience.

On days of silence I do what I call "lazy kundalini," making the empty meditative spaces in between the exercises last longer than the actual active exercises. Three minute exercise, five minutes still and silent. Four minute exercise, five minutes of meditation, and on an on, back and forth, savoring the contrast between stillness and movement, effort and letting go. This takes you deeper and deeper.

As much value happens in the stillness as in the movement.

This is really blissful, and you can immediately feel the vibrational shift you just caused even after the first three minute exercise.

At the end I lie back on the blanket and enjoy the swirling colors behind my eyelids, then stare at the sky for a long time.

Today, two of our abundant local Ojai Valley hawk friends began circling lazily directly above me, sometimes hanging almost motionless on the wind, and kept doing that for about ten minutes. They appeared to be looking right down at me, and could surely see my every eyelash, although even my 20/20 distance vision couldn't make out their eyes at 1000 feet.

Then one folded in its wings like a bullet and did the most spectacular 1000 foot dive I've ever seen, nearly straight down into the yard across the street, then nonchalantly reappeared and alighted in the top of the pine tree in our yard where I could see it well, and sat there to be admired.

Redtails are more colorful than this, but it gives you the idea.

Great things happen when we slow down.

Love,

Lola