Today we went to the forest for the 7.30 am class. It was unusually warm for this time of the year and somehow the woods were calling when I went out for my tea. We got there in the darkness, pitch black. Sat down on the natural pine needle carpet and connected to our breaths. You just sit down and inhale and exhale normally and after a while magic starts happening;  you kind of commit to just doing this, you commit to just being your breath, you commit to breathing, to being conscious of it as you would if it were your last breath, you love your breath so to speak. Sitting in the forest, do not lose touch with your breath, not a single one and you become a witness of what is, completely emptied of yourself. Then it’s when you start to listen, when you really can listen, when you really see what is behind the veil of the obvious. As you follow your breath you can hear the sea at the other side of the cliffs, the sound of the tree tops caressed by the south breeze, the first crows waking up, something scurrying amongst the trees. Softly open your eyes, keep following your breath, notice the changes in light, how the night becomes the day and watch from a place behind your eyes. You have become an indivisible part of this beauty unfolding in front of your eyes. You welcome the raindrops dancing on your forehead. Have you ever felt like someone is really listening, like they know how to listen? They listen from that place of selflessness, from their breath.