The following is a description of a meditation experience I had shortly after the unexpected death of a good friend.
My clearing in the woods has a mature tree, which has stood there through the ages. It has fallen limbs and gnarled branches, but the wisdom immigrating from the tree radiates. The falling limbs form a seat for me, with my name carved, but barely legible, in the wood and bark. My name has been there for ages, now weathered and beaten. Waiting.
As I sit upon my seat