Lucy forages for tender young grasses as I sit on the deck and write. Occasionally she pauses for a loud, insistent "Honk, honk, honk."
What is she saying? Who is she addressing? What, if anything, does she hope to see or hear in response? Frances and I have no answers to these questions. We continue, though, to take turns being with Lucy as she goes about her daily routines without Ander nearby.
This is our first full day without an Ander-centered activity (Tuesday he was euthanized, Wednesday he was cremated). We all feel a bit lonlier without his presence in our yard.
A T'ai Chi Chih student who lost one of her cats over a week ago mentioned today that a remaining cat seemed oblivious to the dead cat's absence but the other walked around meowing and acting as if she was looking for her missing friend. Is that what Lucy's doing?
Our morning TCC class practice segued in and out of sync. It took the first third of practice for us all to visibly slow down and relax. Our Buddha's Brain discussion afterward focused on nerve cells and brain chemistry. Then we ended our class with a bell meditation.
It's obvious that our years (six) of practicing TCC together have eased the way toward a comfort with seated meditation. And next week perhaps we'll use less guidance and simply sit quietly together. No movement ... but the same intention and willingness to be fully present in the moment.