the full-moon sit

If the monsoon clouds allow the moon tonight, sit where you can see it. If they do not — and in this season they may not — sit by the window anyway. The moon is there. That is rather the point of it.

Three rounds of breath, with one small addition.

Breathe in for a count of four, and as you do, let one teacher's face arrive — the schoolteacher who never hurried you, the grandmother who taught you rangoli, the uncle who taught you to swim mostly by standing far away and believing. Rest a moment at the top. Breathe out for a count of six, and with the out-breath, an unspoken thank you. Settle. Then the next face, or the same one again — some teachers deserve all three rounds.

Three breaths, three thanks, nothing sent. You can stop here.