Island Drive

Here we are, on our lovely island. The sun is just beginning to set, and it's the perfect time for a relaxing drive. You have the road to yourself with no particular place to be. So, you can take your time and take in all the sites around you. The beautiful hillside views and the sound of the ocean washing against the shore are an invitation to drift along with the current of island life. It's a particularly pleasant night and a light, warm breeze flows to the cars open windows. Before we get on the road, let's begin with a wind down exercise. Tonight's wind down is an exercise we call Knowing, that helps to sooth the mind. And once you've learned it, you can even use it if you wake up in the night. We're going to be counting our breaths, and then just gently noting thoughts and feelings as they arise. We're not trying to change them. We're simply labeling thinking as thinking, feeling as feeling. It may sound incredibly simple, but it can help to create distance between ourselves and the thought, ourselves and the feeling, so we don't get so involved in it that in turn creates a more restful state of mind. In other words, the perfect state of mind for gentle, restful sleep. So to begin with, just take a moment or two to get comfortable, make sure you're nice and cool. Just starting with some nice, big, deep breaths, breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth. And with the next out-breath, allow the breath to return to its natural rhythm in and out through the nose, and just feeling the weight of the body pressing down into your bed. And in your own time, starting to count the breaths as they pass. One with the rise, two with the fall, just up to a count of 10. When you get to 10, you can stop and start again at one. And remember, any time you get distracted, the moment you realize you're distracted by thought, simply noted, thanking and return to the breath or if a feeling arises, feeling and returned to the breath. That noting is very gentle, not harsh at all. Think of it like a feather, just gently touching the surface of a crystal glass. I'm going to give you a few moments just to keep counting the breath, and noting any thoughts and feelings that arise. That's great. The road is a dark melody, through the greens and the yellows. The road smooths out, under the repetition of feet, and wind, and wheel. The road is empty, say for the wandering buffalo on it's shoulder of broken chalk, splashing through puddles. He nods his head to his council of dragonflies, circling in their crisp, blue jackets. Under the road, the grass bides it's time. The road tempts with it's simplicity. "I am just a line," says the road. I do not change anything. The road...