The Winds That Whisper Back with MP3
- The Dancing Buddha
- Apr 17
- 4 min read
Introduction
Sometimes we run from the feelings that could have freed us. But what happens when we stop, turn around, and listen? Also Enjoy the MP3 Guided Meditation after the story.
Part One: The Weight They Carried
The hills of Glen Coe rolled endlessly under the cloudy sky, their curves cloaked in heather and wild grass. The wind there didn’t blow—it sang. To some, it sounded like sorrow. To others, freedom.
Three students walked behind the monk as he climbed the narrow trail: Kavi, the fiery one who always tried to lead; Emiko, the quiet observer; and Jonah, who carried silence like a stone in his chest.
The monk walked with a lightness that didn't match his age or the rugged terrain. His robes fluttered in the wind like a flag of peace.
“Where are we going, Master?” Kavi asked, already breathless.
“To meet the wind,” the monk replied with a smile. “It has something to say.”
Kavi scoffed. “Wind has no voice.”
The monk just chuckled. “Only to those who never listen.”
They stopped near the top, a place where the earth dropped off into mist. The monk turned to his students, his gaze soft but steady.
“You’ve each brought something heavy up this mountain,” he said. “Not in your packs. In your chests.”
Jonah shifted uncomfortably. Emiko looked down. Kavi folded his arms.
“Let us begin,” the monk said, sitting on a rock that overlooked the glen.
Part Two: Listening for What Wants to Leave
He closed his eyes and let the wind tousle his hair. Then he began to speak—not to the students, it seemed, but to the wind itself.
“There are feelings that visit us like travelers. Grief. Shame. Fear. But instead of letting them speak, we slam the door.”
He opened his eyes slowly.
“Each of you will name a feeling you’ve been avoiding.”
Jonah looked trapped. Emiko’s eyes welled up. Kavi, always the bold one, broke the silence.
“Anger. Mine is anger.”
“What does it say?” the monk asked.
“I don’t know. I try to shut it up before it says too much.”
“Then listen now,” the monk said gently. “Close your eyes, feel where it lives in your body, and let it speak. Not to your mind. To your heart.”
Kavi frowned, but obeyed. His shoulders dropped. His breath slowed.
“It says... I wasn’t protected,” he whispered. “No one came.”
The monk nodded. “Now speak to it. Not with blame. With understanding.”
“I see you... you tried to keep me safe. But you’re not needed in that same way anymore.”
A silence stretched between them. The wind seemed to echo Kavi’s release.
“That is emotional congruence,” the monk said softly. “You didn’t fight it. You listened.”
Part Three: Stones in the Stream
Emiko spoke next. “Mine is sadness.”
“Where is it?”
“In my chest.”
“Feel it there,” the monk said. “What image comes to mind?”
“A bird... wings caught in wire.”
The monk’s eyes sparkled. “Then set it free.”
She sat quietly, hands on her lap, breathing slow. After some time, her lips parted.
“It just wanted to be noticed. That’s all.”
The monk smiled. “Then you have already begun healing.”
Finally, all eyes turned to Jonah. He looked terrified.
“I don’t know mine,” he said. “It’s just… heavy.”
“Where is it in your body?”
“My throat.”
“Then let it speak from there.”
Jonah’s face tightened. Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes.
“It says... 'I wasn’t allowed to cry.'” His voice cracked.
The monk placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Then cry now, if it comes. Let the river flow. The stone was never meant to stay.”
Jonah collapsed into the monk’s arms, sobbing. No one said a word. The wind didn’t interrupt. The mountain bore witness.
Guided Meditation: The Listener Within
“Close your eyes,” the monk said after Jonah's tears had quieted. “Let the feeling rise again. Not to overwhelm you, but so it can be heard. Picture it as a figure before you. What does it look like? A child? A shadow? An animal? Just notice without judgment.”
A pause.
“Now, ask it: What are you trying to tell me?”
Pause.
“Breathe in understanding. Breathe out resistance.”
“Now say within yourself: I am safe to feel. I am free to release. Again: I am safe to feel. I am free to release.”
The wind blew gently over them, soft now, like a breath that had let go of holding.
Part Four: Descent Into Lightness
When they opened their eyes, the glen looked different. Not because the clouds had cleared—because they had.
They walked down in silence, not because there was nothing to say, but because something had been heard.
Halfway down, the monk broke the silence.
“Emotions are like wind. You can’t hold them back forever. But if you let them blow through, they leave clarity in their wake.”
Kavi laughed lightly. “You really did bring us to meet the wind.”
The monk smiled. “And it whispered back.”
Conclusion
Some lessons aren’t given—they’re discovered. And sometimes, healing begins not when we fix the feeling, but when we finally listen to it.
Affirmations
I am safe to feel. I am free to release.
My emotions are not enemies—they are messages bringing me back to myself.
Questions for Further Discussion
What emotion have you been avoiding or numbing?
If that emotion could speak, what would it say?
How might your life change if you welcomed that emotion as a messenger rather than a problem?
What does “emotional congruence” mean to you in your current season of life?
Dancing Buddha Quote
"Do not be afraid of your storms. The wind that shakes you also clears your sky."
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