I wanted to thank you but you drove off before I could say a word. It’s the last day of an eight day silent meditation retreat and you have sat across from me during every conversation-less meal without a whisper or even any eye contact. Since we are in our assigned seats, I was able to secretly observe you day after day eating your food with complete focus and with a look of secret pleasure on your face.
Our single bowl of rice and vegetables took me little time to finish but you savored each sliver of broccoli, mushroom and bamboo shoot. I was determined to slow down, be mindful of my simple meal and I’ve tried for six days to finish after you. When I thought for sure that I would be the last to leave the table and clean my small metal bowl you started to eat a banana. You put it on a thin paper napkin on the table and gently peeled back one length of spotted yellow outer skin. Then you took your teaspoon and surgically cut it lengthwise precisely down the middle and then carved that into little chunks. Slowly, in almost stop action slow motion, you consumed each piece. I’m struck by your concentration and painstakingly peel my mandarin orange into sections to match you bite for bite.
You taught me with your graciousness to savor and linger. Like a dancer you moved in the present, seemingly suspending time.
Thank you.
Mara Lefebvre is a writer, visual artist and retreat junkie and has an appreciation of beauty, excellence, and good design in all things. Fascinated with how memory works, she reconstructed her past revealing lies, laments and lunatics. Her lifelong interest in yoga and frequent walking meditations support her creative curiosity. Her studio is in upstate New York in a ranch house with a red door on a dead end street.