A Meditation
an offering from the hills of the Judean Desert.
We drove along winding roads, my uncle pressing down on the gas pedal just a hair too heavily for the curving roads of the Judean Desert. The sky, full-bellied and dressed in warm purple and a pink like the inner flesh of a grapefruit, held a breadth of possibility and peace that I had not felt in my body in a long time.
The Dead Sea glittered from the waxing moon in the sky. The vision of this ancient golden sea laid in constant sight as we hugged the winding roads. Outside of the opposite window were the hills cradling the last rays of light from the sun at their ridges. Israeli music played gently over the speakers as the inky evening began to spill across the skies.
I couldn’t help but let my heart swell. I allowed myself to fully immerse in these two hours driving through the desert. This meditation was the hug I knew I had needed all of this time. On those weekends when I felt as though something was missing deep inside the center of my chest. Held by these hills, and with salt from the Dead Sea still lingering in my curls, I finally felt the wholeness I craved. I finally felt a sense of peace.
Although I knew that those delicious colors of dusk would eventually disappear beneath the horizon, and that another night would edge us closer to the full moon of Sukkot, signaling the end of our trip, I allowed a knowingness to settle into my bones. Because this drive through the desert filled me in a way I’ve only experienced a handful of times in my life. One thing I know about these types of moments is that we can always access them. Because they feel so full, so true, they will always remain within me. So on this cloudy fall morning back on the East Coast, I offer this moment in time to myself, and to all of you.
May these sounds and images be a meditation.
