Saturday Morning Meditations

I stayed at a friend’s apartment in Central London last night. She had a spare bedroom, and it was spare. Tiny but had what I needed for the night, fresh white sheets, duvet, and clean towels. It was pleasing to have a total blank space.  Nothing laid on the walls. There was no television, or even drawers, just a bed. As I laid down in the bed and looked out the window, there were two images. The rooftop of the next door building and the impressive Shard.  


My eyes awoke gently at 530 am.  I gazed out the window and observed the pink hued sky offering softness to the nearby architectural wonder. I saw a single bird fly by, and even heard a nearby local whistling on his walk. There was a pattering of cars that passed, but silence again.  This was my meditation today.

As I got out of bed and moved to a different part of the room and looked out the window again, I saw St. Paul Cathedral.   What gems this tiny room had, if I allowed myself to settle in and appreciate it.  It was a beautiful site and simple, which many expensive hotels in the area lack this view from their bedroom windows.

I remembered how much I indulge in what a city has to offer in the wee hours of weekend mornings.  Residents allow themselves to sleep in from their work driven tight schedules. And as they dream or nurture their Friday night hangovers, I can indulge in the true luxuries the city has to offer.  I chose to start my day early to begin exploring the quiet adventures that may lay ahead, as the world slept.

This included watching for an extended amount of time a miniature bellagio dancing fountain. There were four rows of water being squirted in the air.  One particular row created a makeshift rainbow for seconds.  There were no children trying to scream and cool themselves off by running through it. Just morning joggers, street cleaners, and me.  I took off my shoes and socks, sat down just to observe, with the London Bridge at my back.  How do you capture a makeshift floating rainbow? It’s like trying to encapsulate a moment into words. The image of a rainbow lingers for a tiny amount of time after the water has stopped.  The mirage of what once was.


A dog and his owner walk by the fountain, the dog observes the dancing water and engages in playtime. He laps up some water, it then disappears. The water the re-emerges taller than before. He runs away and barks.  The rainbow’s angle begins to shift.

Tourists walk by and briefly snap an image of the dancing fountains. But because they don’t linger, I doubt they see the rainbow.  It’s when you allow yourself to sit still and observe, that the secret beauty appears. I find true beauty in cities, is nature playing amongst and within the manmade environments.

How can you look at a rainbow and not believe in magic or possibilities?  I don’t need the scientific reasons why rainbows create these images to our vision.  I just need to see it, observe it’s wonder, and the impact on my heart.

You must loosen the grasp of your hands to allow the dancing moment to be held with wonder and without attachment.