Obos

In my last post I included some pictures of an obos that I built while spending a lovely afternoon with my family.

Obos is a Japanese term for simply a "pile of rocks", often only three.

Today I went to The Painter's Keys, to visit an article on obos, called The Art Shrine. I found it beautiful.

One reader wrote in that they would quietly suggest "nobos", with the thought behind it being "leave no trail".

I understand well this sentiment.

But I can't say that I agree that it is a violation.

There was something so gentle, quiet, and serene about the entire process. Beginning with the gathering of stones. Touching their smoothness, choosing ones of different shades of subtle earth.

After the gathering came pondering where to place my obos. That was an easy one. The place spoke to me almost before the stones themselves did.

Next came the building.

No frustrations, no disharmony, no expectations, no unease.

Only tranquility.

Solitude.

Though I hadn't any ideas of what the creation would gift me with, I came away with much peace. My monument wasn't a sign stating "I am here", but more of an honoring of earth, the beauty of the day, the loveliness of the moment, the affinity I felt for all of Earth Mother and Her creations.

I still carry the gentle whispering song in my heart today.

I cannot imagine that She would view my obos as a scar to her beauty.

I rather think that She would view it as it was meant to be - a quiet tribute to all the life and love that She had shown me on this day.

On another note, I imagine myself resting and thinking beside a river somewhere, pondering life and love. Allowing the wise words of the stream into my mind and heart.

If upon being enveloped by the earth's gentle grace I happened my eyes upon an obos that someone had built, I can say with certainty that I would not be offended that I was not the first one to sit in this place. It is far more likely that I would feel an affinity for a fellow man, wondering if the same thoughts passed through him.

I would wonder if the place were magical.

I would wonder if I was led here to quietly ponder, imagine, rest, sigh, and love as others had been led before me.

I can only suppose that God in His wisdom and Her gentleness would approve of such a thing.