Sitting

Ba, my maternal grandma, had a Buddha. She must have noticed that I often looked at him. One day when we were visiting she gathered all us, me, my mom and dad. We sat in a circle on a carpet on the living room floor. In the middle was Buddha. Ba carefully picked Buddha up and was ... Show More

I breathe like Buddha breathes. I focus on the area where the air touches the nostrils. I sense my chest filling and emptying. I sense the breath as a bodily sensation. 

I listen like Buddha listens. I hear sounds close to me, my own breathing, in and out of my nostrils, sounds that are more distant, the humming of the fridge and the fan in the kitchen, and even more distant, a car that starts on the street outside, then driving away with a vroom ... Show More