Fw: [GuruRatings] Walking on Water / Anna

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One Song, One Dance, One Life

"walking on water"

- Clay

GuruRatings

Thursday, September 15, 2005 1:11 PM

[GuruRatings] Re: Walking on Water / Anna

GuruRatings, "Anna Ruiz" <nli10u@c...> wrote:>

this one's for U> > ar> - > Steve

Toth > SufiMystic > Thursday, September 15,

2005 10:08 AM> [sufiMystic] forwards from bowl of saki> > >

To become cold from the coldness of the world is weakness, to become

> broken by the hardness of the world is feebleness, but to live in

the > world and yet to keep above it is like walking on the water.> >

Bowl of Saki, by Hazrat Inayat Khan >

Anna,Thanks so much for thinking of me...blessings,clayps, the

combination of the words coldness and walking on water reminded me of

something I had written a couple of years ago, which I included

below.pps, it's kinda long, and it's a description of an actual

experience.I hope you enjoy it...walking on waterimagine thisimagine

your favorite forest flooded with watercovered in icethe forest held

captive beneath layers of crystal clear, frozen waterthe forest floor

framed as if captured in nature's own glossy photoframed not for an

eternity - but for this momentimagine stepping delicately - as if on

eggshells - onto the iceimagine walking on the frozen waterimagine

your adrenaline rising as the ice creaks, threatening to crackimagine

gracefully sliding your boots over the smooth slick surface imagine

breathing deeply into your upper lungs as if the very act of

breathing could lift your body, make you lighter, sparing the

delicate ice....imagine exhaling slowly...watching the fog created as

your warm breath meets the cold airnow the ice is creaking all around

you...creaking without apparent causeyour breathing stops...you are

as present as the ice... at this moment - nothing else matters...you

look around for a safer routethe trail you normally run has

disappeared below the icethe ice is nearly a foot above the

groundbelow the ice is water - icy cold wateryou continue walking

on this frozen wateryou test the ice in places that appear

thinstepping softly when it creaks easily...stepping more boldly when

it feels firmyou feel certain that the cold water will soon come

rushing into your boots, uninvited...the ice surely will not hold

your weight...but it does...for now...you see logs lying on - and in

- the icelogs that were trees not so long agoyou leap from one log to

another...you attempt to balance on logs partially submerged in the

ice...with each step the water beneath the ice deepens, your legs

seem less steadyunable to 'accept' the balance taken for granted only

moments ago...instinctively you crouch...looking...you examine the

ice...beautiful patterns are visible in the sunlight...as if millions

of snowflakes came together in a symphony of form and

patternrefracting the light in ways no more imaginable than the

patterns of snowflakes themselvesthe patterns are

ethereal...delicate...otherworldlyso intricate that no one could

possibly have envisioned them, let alone created them.you see

movement beneath the ice...water is flowing...delicate plants are

swaying with the currents protected by the ice from the blustery air

above.so peaceful... this gently flowing stream underneath the

crystal clear ice...only the sunlight is penetratingyou see more

movement...magical, fluid movement...like nothing you've ever seen

before...what is it? it's as if another fluid is moving underneath

the ice - along with the water...yet separate from the waterthis

'movement' is searchinga never-ending dance to the rhythm of the

waterhow can it be separate from the water below?and then you

understand...air is trapped beneath the icehoping beyond hope to be

released searching endlessly, futilelyflowing along the underside of

the icerising upward at every opportunityat every flaw or creviceyet

remaining a captive of the iceyou look around, seemingly there is

only you, and the ice, and the trees and the skyeverything else is

beneath the ice - trails, animal tracks, leaves, logs, rocksthe

entire forest floor - covered in ice...with naught but winter's blue

shadows on the ice and trees lurching skyward out of the iceand

suddenly...you hear a loud crack in the distanceyou look up...you

realize you've lost your way - in this maze of logs and trees and

icewith only the sun to guide you - you look aroundyou must go this

wayyou must keep the sun over your left shoulderthis way... the trail

home is to be foundnow the water beneath the ice seems much

deeper...surely the cold water will envelope you should the ice

fail....the ice is thinner here...then you see a log... and

anotheryou hop from log to log...avoiding the cold water below the

thin iceyou seem to have found a way out, but soon...you've reached

the endno more logs...you see no other way to gothe ice is quite

thin...the water quite coldand deeper still...and yet, you've been

this way beforea hundred times or more...you're balancing on the end

of a log the icy waters seem peacefulinvitingcalling your nameyou

dare not think what might go wrongyou dare not think of falling

headlong into the wateryou learned long ago that your body wants to

obeythat it will re-create in movement whatever image it sees in your

mindthat the body cannot understand a "not" or a "don't" alongside

images that flash into your mind of things (not) to do,yes, you

learned long ago that - if it can, your body will do exactly what

your mind imagines...so you imagine remaining on top of the iceyou

imagine walking on wateras you look at this very thin ice, a mere

glaze on the water's surfaceyou realize that if it holds your weight,

it surely will be the thinnest ice capable of doing so, the thinnest

ice imaginable,and it will be as close as you may ever come to

walking on water.and then for a split second you realize that you've

seen this movie before in a much different settingyou think about it

for only a split seconda mere flash of an image stored long, long

agoa time when you were running through a bogjumping from hassock to

hassockat first, as if playing a gameand then more intently as the

hassocks - tufts of grass growing up out of the murky waters - grew

further and further apartyou leaped more vigorously, more

quicklyattempting to avoid the bog belowuntil finally, there were no

more tufts of grass on which to landyou were alone with the bogyou

were alone in the bogas quickly as this thought appeared, it is

goneyou are hereit is nowand instinctively you know...you will get

wetand then you are off...boldly stepping onto the icehoping not to

hear it's splendid crackor feel the rush of cold water into your

boots...and yet...that is what you hear - and feelyou are sinkingyour

warm foot braces at the onrush of the cold, enveloping water...filling

your boot as if a bucket were pushed beneath the water.you move

quickly – stepping with your other foot - hoping to gain purchase on

the ice...to no avail... you try again...the other footquickly...no

luck you glance around for firmer ice - there is none.again and again

you step - with each step you hope to feel the firmness you take for

granted a thousand times each day...it does not come. with each step

the ice breaks away underfootcaught beneath your boot and the weight

of your bodythese patches of ice slow your descentyou ride them as

you sink, using the precious support they offeryou step quickly,

lightlyyou leap from one broken remnant of ice to another -

gracefullydesperately hoping to avoid the bottom, and it's

depths...hoping to spare your now numb feet. you quicken your

stepsnow you are practically runningon the thinnest of iceas it

cracks beneath your feet with every step...at this moment, there is

only you, and the ice, and the cold water

beneath...~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ epilogue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~you know that you may never understand

what the Zen masters mean when they talk of 'playing baseball on

running water'. this is not the same as that, yet... this is as

close as you have ever been to...walking on water.>