Monsoon Hour

You are safe watching the birth of a monsoon from a high hill overlooking the Patti terraces. Behind you, a home of strong wood worn smooth by its many years of service as refuge from seasons such as this stands quiet and steadfast. Lanterns like wonder-filled eyes glow from its windows. You can almost feel their shadow plays tickling your back. It is evening and the rains are coming. It's time to put down the day and prepare for rest. To help us make the most of this special time, I think it's nice to begin with a little wind down. Tonight's wind down is a breathing exercise. So, when you're ready, let's begin. First, get comfortable in your bed. Now, just bringing the attention to the breath, just noticing where you feel it. In the nose, the throat, the chest, the diaphragm. You're nice and relaxed. We're going to be taking a deep breath in for four, holding it for four, and then breathing out for six. So, are you ready? Let's begin. In for four. Two, three, four. Hold it for four. Two, three, four. Now breathing out for six. Two, three, four, five, six. In for four. Two, three, four. Holding for four. Two, three, four. Out for six. Two, three, four, five, six. In for four. Two, three, four. Holding for four. Two, three, four. Out for six. Two, three, four, five, six. In for four. Two, three, four. Holding for four. Two, three, four. Out for six. Two, three, four, five, six. Great. Now returning the breath to normal. You are surprised to find the rain drops warm. Like tiny pearls, they roll down your forehead, then the bridge of your nose. They collect where your lips meet from some direction you cannot discern. A cow's lowing reaches you. A greeting. You feel recognized by this rain as though it had always been making its way toward you. The wind is stronger now, buffeting your legs and arms. It orchestrates all anchorless things according to its own will. Leaves free of their branches, sheets left draped over a clothes line, a tiny bronze bell, a child's flip-flops, the banyan's braided vines. You begin to pace calmly around the porch, creating your own cycle. If the terraces lay to the South of this hill, to the North are the mountains with their green cheeks. Deep inside them, a countervailing power flows, another kind of darkness, heavy with the planet's heat. You are perfectly balanced here, where water approaches to soothe the fire. You open the back door, and step back out onto the porch. The water is warm, but the wind is mighty. It lifts the shirt off your ribs. It demands that you straighten your back, and walk into the rain as though tough roots grew from the bottoms of your feet. Slowly, you descend the steps of the porch. The water on the ground is ankle deep, making eddies around your bare feet. Now,...