I was curious about Buddha Beach when my honey and I set out on a hike a couple of weeks ago in Sedona, Arizona, Red Rock Country. Our curiosity was satisfied as soon as we rounded a bend on Oak Creek and saw hundreds, probably thousands, of rocks balanced on top of one another. I was caught off guard and just stood there and stared with my jaw dropped somewhere down around my naval.
Rock and stone balancing was introduced in the Philippines as a type of environmental art. I’d read several interpretations of the art, one of which describes the process as meditative in nature and gives the practitioner a sense of calm and inner peace. Standing there on Buddha Beach surrounded by rock formations in every direction gave me the same sense, and everyone I watched come around the bend on Oak Creek had the same reaction.
Last year I wrote about balance in life, so I suppose balance is becoming a recurring theme. I’d always found balance when I’d start from within; and the way that has worked for me over the past fifty-seven years was to immerse myself in sweat with a long run or grueling cycle. But I admit that the rock formations we built on Buddha Beach that afternoon gave me a similar feeling.
One of my sons, a police officer, calls me a repeat offender because I’m always getting stopped by park rangers for either running through our county park after dark or having my dog off the leash, both against some ridiculous rules I fail to comprehend. Perhaps I’ll recruit my park ranger buddies to help build a rock formation so we can find a shared inner balance.