The Blue Sky Club
Direct your eyes toward the expanse of sky. — Shiri Singha's instruction to Padmasambhava A couple of years ago, my writing coach, Jeffrey Davis, introduced me to the Blue Sky Club. I can’t remember now the context of our conversation, but he reminded me of what I used to do when I was a kid. Get an old blanket out of the closet, go outside and spread it on the grass, lie down and look up at the sky. Remember doing that? I did it all the time and pondered the meaning of this big world. During the mornings I’d look up through the branches of a giant oak tree in our back yard. On hot days, I’d go over to the golf course and spread out on one of the back greens. At night, my blanket and I would head for the front yard where trees didn’t block the sky, and I’d lie down and stare at the stars. I don’t know if I was a dreamy kid or not, but I remember being drawn to the out-of-body feeling this induced in me. Jeffrey calls this being a member of the Blue Sky Club. Qualifications for entry into this club are loose, and I’ve recently renewed my membership.
In the last few weeks, I’ve attended a lot of club meetings in my own teeny back yard. I have a small circle of artificial turf in the middle of a beautiful array of trees and plantings: giant timber bamboo, two tabebuia trees, Alfonse bamboo, azalea bushes, and tendril-like branches from my neighbor’s giant oak that stretch into my sky space. I take a beach towel out at different times of the day; I lie down in savasana pose, legs spread wide, palms face up; I look up through the swaying bamboo and the sprawling oak limbs. I see clouds floating behind the branches, and behind the clouds, there it is: blue, blue sky. And I just stare at that sky for as long as I dare.
If you used to do this, or if you have never done this, I highly recommend it. It leads to a complete reconfiguration of the inside of your head. Or maybe it’s an obliteration of the inside of your head. That might be more accurate. You sink into the ground when you start releasing tension; you feel the muscles go limp, the spine relax. You are just sky. Open, clear, spacious, and pure. You are no longer a body or a mind. You can see the trees sway, you notice each leaf and each branch and each puff of cloud behind them. But it’s something other than you doing the noticing. This “noticing” is the only business of the Blue Sky Club.
Stay there as long as you can. Then, get up and go about your day. Observe how happy you are, how open you are.
The Blue Sky Club will be meeting regularly at my house soon. Please let me know if you would like to become a member. Or even better, start your own chapter of The Blue Sky Club!