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the cricket

I sit down on my cushions for my nightly meditation, tucking my feet in, straightening my back, lowering my eyelids, putting in effort to have no attachment to thoughts.
A cricket chirps loudly.

I hear the sound of my son turn another page in his book.

A cricket is keeping me company during my sit.

I hear my wife move downstairs, and a plane make its journey across the sky overhead.

I notice the rhythm of the cricket are in time with the melody of the beating in my chest, my breath in sync. The sound is quiet yet massive all at once, 10,000 Buddhas in all directions, all in sync, with nothing to be in sync with. I am not separate from this cricket. Suchness. All as it should be, nothing more, nothing less.

I decide I am finished, join my palms, and take refuge as I do every night.

I smile and thank the cricket.

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