Evocation #29 Meditation for the day after

The banner told of ‘deep gratitude’. So I take some time in the quiet of the evening to remember and give thanks.

I thank God for you. 

I remember the romance of sharing Granada with you: midnight in the Alhambra, an afternoon wandering in the Caravanserai, the soothing waters of the Hamman, the exotic spices of the Arab quarter.
I remember the whimsy of Gaudi and Dali, peppering sites across Catalunya, the bright colours that seemed to reflect you..., the forested columns in La Sagrada Famiglia, the deco glass of Palau de la Musica.
I remember the explosions of flavour: the salt and rich tang of aged jamon, a sliver setting off the sofrito, held together by smokey pimenton, the bite into layers of air, somehow whipped together with pastry of lard... the inevitable laughter at the decadence of breakfast!
I remember trekking in the a downpour, wearing rain capes that did nothing but pay homage to the concept of sodden. I remember our laughter and sense of shared crazy in the flooding of Torremolinos.
I remember the Flamenco Biennale in Sevilla: sitting in the front row and the 20 minute standing ovation. We had no idea what we were going to and were transported into the rhythms of passion.
I remember wandering with you in the Alcazar, finding shade in between expanses of cultured gardens and vibrant blossoms.
I remember tiled mosaics and moorish architecture. I remember your stories of history and exploration, or war and poetry.
I remember the adventures and wonders and discoveries of mysteries. 

Today, God blessed me with churros and dark bitter chocolate, so I remembered you
And I continue to give thanks.

In honour of you, I offer this meditation.

Close your eyes and slow your breath.
Let the air come and go. 
Listen to it creep in and leak out.
Observe it make its path inside you.
Welcome it and let it travel gently wherever it will.
Allow your breath to remind you of scents and tastes of clarity and stuffiness.
Allow you mind to travel to the journeys of the past.

Where do you remember a stolen kiss in the dark?
Was there soft lighting, candles perhaps? Were voices hushed? 
Do you recall holding hands or linking fingers?

Where do you remember rain and damp skin...
When did you peel off layers only to find more wet underneath?
When did you stand in a warm shower, seeking to thaw out?

Have you ever shared desert? 
Two spoons please!
Did you feed each other? 
Who got to crack the hardened sugar on the Creme Caramel?

What energy of performance has surprised and delighted you?
Did you laugh or cry? Or both?
Did you try to copy the actors as you debriefed over supper?
Did you dream - together perhaps?

When you start to remember, 
step into the memory, 
allow it to console you, 
even for a little while.
In the remembering of past wonders, 
Be grateful for your present moments.