Before the Sun Disappears
After restoring the highest lookout on the property, we began spending more evenings there watching the sun disappear behind the mountains—and noticing how naturally everyone became still.
What the Well Holds
Two 5,000-gallon irrigation tanks normally fill from a well deep beneath the property. When the water stopped flowing, troubleshooting the system became a lesson in looking beneath the surface.
When the Deer Looked Back
After sitting in meditation, I heard rustling outside and found a deer beneath the trees. For several minutes, we stood completely still, simply watching one another.
What Holds the Edge
This week at the retreat center, building a retaining wall near the pond became a meditation on support, structure, and the quiet work that keeps things from washing away.
The Shade We Had to Remove
This week at the retreat center, pruning trees in the heat became a meditation on shade, weight, and the difficult kind of care that makes space before something breaks.
The Pond that Finally Belonged
This week, for the first time, I sat down and simply watched the pond. After weeks of mud, rocks, leaks, doubt, and stubborn effort, it finally felt less like a project and more like a place.
Where the Body Remembers How to Rest
A weekend in Big Sur became a reminder that sometimes practice is not doing more, but letting the body receive enough beauty, water, and quiet to soften.
When the Heat Asks You to Slow Down
This week in Topanga, clearing brush in the high heat became a meditation on effort, imbalance, and the wisdom of knowing when to slow down.
The Boulder That Wouldn’t Budge
This week in Maine, a massive boulder near the lake became a meditation on weight, stillness, and the parts of life that are not moved by force.
The Attention of a Bike Ride
A quiet bike ride through Camden, Maine became an unexpected meditation. Passing gardens, stone walls, sailboats, and the shifting shoreline, I was reminded that mindfulness doesn't always happen in stillness. Sometimes the practice is simply moving slowly enough to notice what is already unfolding around you.
Nature, Unfiltered: The Turtle at Rest
While visiting Lake Shrine, a turtle rests on a sun-warmed rock, unmoved by the gentle activity around it. Koi glide past, birds gather nearby, and visitors come and go. The turtle remains.
Nature, Unfiltered: The Bird of Paradise
Along the pathway to the cabin, Bird of Paradise flowers bloom with quiet confidence. Upright and deliberate, they don’t soften the landscape so much as mark it, inviting a slower pace and clearer attention.
Nature, Unfiltered: The Pocket Gopher
A brief encounter with a Botta’s pocket gopher reveals a quieter rhythm of life. Rarely seen above ground, the gopher moves with efficiency and restraint, reminding us that much of what matters happens beneath the surface, away from view.
Nature, Unfiltered: The Snail’s Pace
On a rainy morning, I noticed a snail crossing the path, its body extended fully, moving forward without hesitation.
Stillness in the Canyon: A Meditative Hike Along the Backbone Trail
I recently hiked the Backbone Trail in Topanga, one of my favorite trails for its long, winding beauty and hidden corners of peace. Midway through, I paused at a rock overlook above a small gorge—where a trickling stream forms pools full of dragonflies and frogs. I meditated by the water, imagining what it might be like to be a cave yogi tucked away in silence. This journal entry captures the magic of that day: the quiet, the reflections, and the grounding energy of the land.
Planting Seeds: A Garden, A Practice, A Path
Spring has arrived, bringing new life to the retreat center. As Katy and I planted a garden, we saw reflections of the spiritual path in the process—loosening the soil like moving qi, tending to seeds like tending to meditation. Growth, whether in a garden or within, takes patience and care. Read on for reflections on gardening, mindfulness, and the lessons nature teaches.
Why Nature Is the Ultimate Meditation Teacher
Nature has long been a source of spiritual insight, offering silent yet profound lessons in presence, patience, and change. Unlike structured meditation, it teaches through direct experience—through the stillness of landscapes, the movement of water, and the rhythms of weather. This post explores how the natural world can become your greatest meditation teacher.