June 1, 2007
A Walk in the Zen Moonlight
ME Liz Strauss wrote this at 9:25 pm
The Moon and the Lake in My Mind
In a week of too many things to do, it’s easy to get lost. It’s even easier not to want to be found. I see lots of folks feeling like that. Not me, no never, never me. Wouldn’t cross my mind. Wouldn’t happen like that.
I don’t get pulled. I don’t get stretched. I can handle the rush. I can handle the push. What else is strength of purpose about? It’s tied up in my need to show up, to find out, to be alive.
Does living mean we need to be strong, noble, and inspired every minute? Sometimes I do my work and think What do I do next? What do I expect of myself?
Then when I’m lucky, I hear music playing in my head. It’s an original melody. I know its movements by now. It’s a full orchestra — brilliant and breathtaking. It also means I’ll soon be going on a Zen walk.
I mentally grab my jacket. I put my wallet and keys in my jeans. It’s a quick good-bye. “Hey, I’m going outside. . . . Yeah, I know it’s raining. That’s okay, I’ve been wet before.”
I’ve no destination beyond the elevator going down. Soon enough, I’m out the glass front doors.
I walk south three city blocks. Three people jog by me on the sidewalk. Two more stroll. An old lady in a walker chair sits in the doorway of a stately building waiting for a ride, maybe her son, to pick her up. There’s a 30-something guy with a shaved head walking his big black dog with the caramel eyes. Lots of cars pass on Lakeshore Drive.
A neighborhood is where I live. I cross under the drive and come out by the lake. All civilization is left behind. Vast space, water and sky refresh my eyes. What a relief.
Sometimes I only need to change what I see.
I lay down my stress and look up at the sky.
The Zen moon in my mind enhances the symphony playing there.
Some folks say they can tell when I write at night. I bet they can.
People get more emotional when the sun has moved on.
I don’t have research to prove that it’s a fact of life.
I don’t need proof.
I have the Zen moon shining in the night sky.
Filed under Motivation/Inspiration, Writing |
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11 Comments to “A Walk in the Zen Moonlight”



Wendy Piersall said
Gah. It’s been a rough week.
“I don’t get pulled. I don’t get stretched. I can handle the rush. I can handle the push.”
I need to feel more of that.
Good thing you are such an incredible inspiration and an awesome friend. I feel your love and support even when you aren’t even thinking about me.
Hugs - W
ME Strauss said
Hey you, Wendy woman, never assume I’m not thinking of you. You saw last time I was there, I do a lot more thinking of people than they might ever suspect.
Always love, always there.
Wendy Piersall said
Ah - uh, yeah. Point well taken with tears in my eyes.
ME Strauss said
Look at that moon, lots of room to breathe and lots of love too.
Tears of joy.
Lisa said
Got your call earlier on my cell, and now your call here. You are a writer when you’re here, in this universal spot.
The rest can wait.
ME Strauss said
Hi Lisa,
No worries. We’ll catch up. Thank you for noticing that I write.
Stuart Baker said
That’s beautiful poetry, Liz. I never get pushed and pulled and stretched either. Not since yesterday.
Thanks.
Stuart Baker
http://www.consciouscooperation.com
ME Strauss said
Hi Stuart!
Thanks. Yeah, I know what you mean. I don’t get pushed, pulled, or stretched when I’m Zen vacationing in my head.
Karen said
There’s something to be said about full moons too–I’m always at my highest energy level during a full moon.
Every night, I walk my dog around my cul-de-sac and gaze at the stars when they are out. It’s the stars that have the Zen-effect for me.
ME Strauss said
Hi Karen!
The stars . . . ah . . . people and stars are made of the same stuff. Ah but the stars always make me feel like there’s plenty of space for my thoughts.
Sunday Reading - 03 June 2007 : said
[...] and thinking, had their role to play. Liz Strauss’ A Walk in the Zen Moonlight is a perfect description of something we should all do daily, whether physically or mentally, to [...]