West Texas Mandala

“Driving the flat open roads of West Texas one summer day, I noticed that whether my car was stopped or speeding along the highway, I appeared to be at the center of a vast circular space covered with tough, dry grass and mesquite brush. My gaze traveled into the distance, where the horizon was like the edge of a dinner plate, marking the end of the earth in every direction. Feeling the urge for a better look, I pulled over, got out of the car, and made my way through the brush to a sandy patch nearby. I was alone. The sun burned down, unchallenged in its position at the center of a clear blue sky that held nothing back. The intense light forced my eyes into narrow slits. A breeze touched my face. “I slowly turned, surveying the empty land while the wind whipped my skirt. Occupying the center of the earth as my eyes told me I was, I felt a rush of grateful camaraderie with the sun. I was not alone after all. Suddenly inspired, I picked up a piece of white caliche stone and scraped a circle in the crusty sand on which I stood. Within the circle I felt secure, anchored, protected, like a little one wrapped in a snug blanket. Standing tall at the center of my circle, I felt kinship with the land, the sky, the sun. I had joined with the vast cosmic forces at play in this American grassland. Like many before me at such times, I had constructed a mandala to bring the moment into focus, manage the energy it stirred, and draw the event into my personal domain of experience.” This is from the introduction to my latest book, “Coloring Mandalas 4: For Confidence, Energy, and Purpose.” (Fincher, Susanne F. 2013. Boston: Shambhala Publications, Inc.)