From the Canyon Journal

The Lengthening Light

This weekend I returned to Pure Land Farms, a quiet property just a short drive from our retreat in Topanga. I attended their Meditation as Medicine workshop again. We sat together at a long table beneath a pepper tree, tasting spice blends and sipping warm tea while the afternoon breeze moved through the branches overhead.

Conversation drifted easily. At one point we spoke about the kinds of landscapes we feel most drawn to. When my turn came, I mentioned Southern California and its mildness. Nothing too cold. Nothing too hot. A climate that rarely feels extreme.

Later we walked through the four quadrants of the garden before moving inside the temple to meditate. Lying on my back, I drifted into a deep stillness as the scent of palo santo hung in the air. A warm breeze moved through the screen door and late afternoon sunlight settled across my chest.

After the workshop ended around five, I walked up a small hill at the edge of the property. A zigzag fence led toward a patch of daisies caught in an old strand of barbed wire. From the hillside I looked out over the valley and noticed how the light lingered longer now. Just a few weeks ago it had already been dark at this hour.

From Topanga Canyon

These reflections are written from walks through Topanga Canyon, where the rhythms of the seasons and the landscape shape the pace of practice.