Catherine Gammon

Sitting for an hour today at Occupy Pittsburgh with a dozen people, a candle, a rose, a stick of incense, and a bell, hearing the silence and cacophony of birds, wind in the trees, cars passing at the other end of the camp, some with horns honking support, people from the occupation cheering in response (or that’s the story I imagined based on the sounds), and for a while some nearby guitar riffs and tunings, preparations maybe (another story) for a jam session developing later in the afternoon—it occurred to me that in our sitting, as we welcome and let go of our stories (like those I dreamed on hearing the honks and cheers and guitar), we give ourselves and others an opportunity to occupy reality—wind, birds, cars, honks, cheers, music, all equal in the resting mind, their separations and the mind that names them letting their separation and naming go, if even for a moment.

This was a bright, warmish day for fall in Pittsburgh, with sunshine and smiles filling the open spaces, and campers sweeping fallen leaves, a good day to feel encouraged about the people and the place and the city, the movement everywhere and everywhere possibility.

On the way home, I caught the photo of somebody’s brilliant sign.