harried

I do realise that so much of my worry about the move is my own maracas shaking away to the frenetic mambo of overthinking. Thankfully, a benefit from having established a long and stable meditation routine is that I am able to see what's happening and sit with it quicker rather than reacting to its insistent rhythm. So much of my past has been thinking my anxious state is my normal state, meditation helps me see it's a response to the shakka-shakka rattle of my thoughts. They stop me from settling and rest, harrying my thoughts in a thousand exhausting directions..
One of the best ways to beat this, for me, is to go out to the fields walking and I headed up to the Greenock Cut this evening. Birdsong and lazing lambs. A whistle from a dog walker approaching and suddenly a doe bounds from the bushes and runs for cover in near trees. The whistled-on dog emerges panting after the springing doe, tongue a-slaver. I meet the dog walker and tell him that his dog is chasing a deer and he just smiles and nods.
The sound I love to hear in May is the cuckoo and they are here and calling: a male and female, first unseen then flitting from pylons . They are being harried meadow pipits trying to stop them from cuckolding their nest with cuckoo eggs. They don't allow the cuckoos to settle and it's fun to watch them chased as they call to each other. I am content  taking all this in and am present and focussed. I feel less harried, most certainly unlike the cuckoos and doe.
View photo full screen to see the cuckoos and a wee miffed meadow pippit.