the path of paths

It was dusk. Nagendra felt whole, and filled to the brim with a quiet sort of joy. He had found the most incredible place. He sat precisely centered in front of the gently glowing pond within the circle of stones, his back straight and his figure the picture of perfect posture. He was still. Everything was still. All around him slender white trees stretched upwards, leaning against one another in a delicate and sleepy way that gave the whole area an… eerie but pleasing tranquility. Across the trees were draped pale vines, no less elegant. They shrouded the place – made it feel safe and secluded. Faint shadows had begun to pour in from the corners of the woods, weaving in between thin trunks and dripping through the vine canopy. The approach of darkness was not alarming, but rather, worked to make the place feel all the more welcoming. It was like a blanket, and with the first inky tendrils, he could start to notice the ethereal glow of the pond even more.

After he had observed, drank in the glorious environment with insatiable appreciation, the wolf had picked out his current spot. Everything was so perfect. There was no one here except for himself. Birds did not sing, crickets did not chirp. And the silence was excellent. He had positioned himself as neatly in the center before the pond as he could, then evened his legs and sat. He held his spine straight and faced forward. He closed his eyes, and felt the world around him in his deep, slow breaths. It smelled so fresh and pure. Silence and nothingness enveloped him and he sank into it. Depriving himself of the wondrous sight of the shrine was not agony – rather, it was a step closer to peace. He reveled in the simple knowledge that it was there, around him. He was in it, and when he closed his eyes and pulled back into his mind and the thought of it, he was one with it. The quiet darkness behind his eyelids and in his ears was peace, nourished by the beautiful place he had found that helped him feel so much closer to nature. Here he could meditate, and feel completely released from the trivial mortal troubles of worry and doubt. Although temporary, he had found bliss.