Log:Lira: Meditation Practice 4
Lira's concentration is tested by the offer of breakfast... and a fire-dancing plant-dad.
OOC Date: September 28, 2023
Location: Hidden Jedi Enclave, Nar Shaddaa
Participants: Lira'una, Qutha Buvu Pah
Amidst the deliberate inconveniences of the meditation chamber, Lira sits in the lotus position, her breathing deep and rhythmic. The distant hum of the starport permeates the room, a constant reminder of the bustling world just beyond the enclave's walls. Yet, in this moment, those sounds only serve to deepen her connection to the present.
Surrounding her are a few small stones, each vibrating with an almost imperceptible energy. They quiver, wiggle, but remain grounded, much like Lira herself, who reaches out with the Force through her center, pushing her awareness out around her like an ever-growing bubble of perception.
Flickering lights cast wavering shadows upon her lavender skin, the illumination dancing to its own inconsistent rhythm. As she delves deeper into her meditation, the sensation of the Force is palpable, flowing around her, through the walls, and intertwining with her very essence. The temperature's unpredictable shifts, from sweltering warmth to chilling drafts, threaten her focus but ultimately do little to deter her resolve.
Every so often, the footsteps of fellow Jedi echo from the passages, their brief appearances and disappearances further layers to the rich tapestry of distractions. But within this orchestrated chaos, Lira seeks clarity, drawing strength from the very challenges designed to test her. She breathes in sync with the universe, whispering, "I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me."
Arriving from one of his infrequent journeys, seemingly this time off planet for whatever mysteries that the Force directs him on, Qutha's reappearance within the confines of the Enclave is heralded by the ever present aroma of fruit blossoms, sap and cut grass that follow him. Heavy workboots adding to the continual din of the meditation chambers.
But there's a rustle of packaging and a new scent added to his normal persistent followings.
Coming to sit down close to Lira a parcel is set down with the loudly colorful display of the logo of Biscuit Baron proclaiming the glory of their product for all to view. "Gotcher brekkist." murmured as the zelosian settles in, lifting a small container for himself from the bag, setting it on his knee and casually tucking in, looking to see how her concentration holds.
Lira's senses, heightened in her meditative state, are the first to pick up on Qutha's return. The familiar scent of fruit blossoms and freshly cut grass wraps around her like a comforting blanket, heralding his presence before the thud of his heavy work boots does. The aroma is as much a part of him as his signature stoicism, and even in her deep state of meditation, she feels a warmth, a sense of kinship that only he brings.
But there's something different this time -- an unfamiliar rustle and a tantalizing new scent. As Qutha nears, the striking logo of Biscuit Baron enters her peripheral vision, disrupting her focus which, it turns out, hadn't been all that deep to begin with. The casual murmur of breakfast further beckons her out that communion with the Force.
She casts a sidelong glance at Qutha as he begins to enjoy his own breakfast, seemingly unbothered by the surroundings, and a small, amused smile tugs at the corner of her lips.
Qutha, ever the unpredictable teacher, testing her concentration in the most unorthodox of ways. With a soft exhale, she tries to refocus, the tempting aroma of Biscuit Baron serving as her newest challenge in the realm of distractions. Yet, underlying it all is a sense of gratitude.
"You're a saint. I'm /starving/ ," she murmurs, giving up after a few seconds of trying to re-center herself and reaching for the bag herself. For a tiny thing, she sometimes had an absolutely voracious appetite. It must be all the moving around she does -- or at least the general lack of her ability to be still.
"Think tha's one'a the big things we talk 'bout back home, 'bout you meat folk." Qutha notes casually while dunking his biscuit in a sausage gravy and nibbling at it thoughtfully. He's amassed a 'farm breakfast' as usual, meats, biscuits, gravies, the works and he seems intent on packing it away despite how he leads off there.
"Cain't survive on water n'sun 'lone." something his species is known for being able to do, at least for a time before they -must- find other food or finally risk starvation. "But then, mos' y'all live on planets like this... All fulla smoke'n buildin's... Even the places like Chandrila had't set out specific spots t'keep it open'n green..."
He pauses, thinking, and after a moment Qutha turns slightly to look at her more fully, "Though yer folk'n live sub'terreanean..." commenting on Ryloth itself.
Lira chuckles softly, munching on her biscuit with genuine delight. "sometimes I think the Force gave me this metabolism as a test of patience," she teases, her lips curling into a playful grin. "A way to remind me to appreciate every moment and every meal." She pauses. "Thank you."
Tilting her head thoughtfully, she says, "The underground cities of Ryloth became sanctuaries against the harsh surface conditions. We learned to find beauty in the darkness, to value the safety of our communities. It taught us about unity, strength, and the art of preserving and cherishing what little we had."
There's a roll of her shoulder, then, and a little smile.
"At least, that's what I was taught. I've never actually been."
There's another bite of her biscuit, then, and munch on some kind of sausage that she didn't ask the type of. She was just grateful to be eating.
"I miss Zelos Two, though. Your family most, but all the /green/ . There's been a few times, as I've been meditating -- or trying -- that I've thought it must be such a peaceful place to find your center. All of that life. The big, quiet orchards. Nar Shaddaa is... chaotic."
A little grin curls her purple lips.
"I mean.. so am I. Maybe that's part of it. The two combined make it that much worse."
"I haven't been myself... Even though I's can see through th'Force... Might could be a place I should visit. Conquer what th'Dark do t'me." noted around a cheek full of biscuit and some caf being sipped down around it. Brow knitting at the notion of Zelos Two and the comparatives of worlds. Chewing more and letting his head dip some while he considers before,
"I thinks y'might be un'tentionally applyin' difficulty per the world. Sure Nar Shaddaa's more chaotic... certainly steeped in the Dark Side, thanks t'the Hutts... But the presence's ain' but a mortal concern. Th'Light exists within th'Dark, sames as Dark in Light. It's jus' where the balance is... n'it's your duty t'fin' where the balance can be made calm where you is."
Qutha turns his glance towards Lira, expression smoothing out some despite an attempt of one corner of his mouth to rise as he speaks. "See's... you're not jus' a rafter in the current, y'know. Y'us also a stone in the middle of the river, how's you gonna gather the moss and plants 'boutcha though, o'er time? Gonna make it a harder flow - t'make it calm? Or y'goan' let'er be a rapids?"
"We could go together. I don't know anyone there, but I could contact my family and see if they could put me in touch with someone. I think I probably have some relatives there that I've never met..."
Lira takes a moment, absorbing Qutha's words. His wisdom, often layered with the unique metaphorical insight he brings from his own world, always provides a fresh perspective on her struggles. She puts her half-eaten biscuit down, pondering his analogy.
"I suppose," she begins, her tone contemplative, "it's easy to feel like a tiny rafter, especially in a place like Nar Shaddaa. But, instead of being swayed and tossed around by the currents, I should be looking at ways to anchor myself... to create a space of stillness even in the chaos."
She chuckles lightly, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "And maybe that's where my natural chaos comes in handy. Maybe by being a part of the storm, understanding it, I can find ways to calm it... be the eye in the center of it."
She bites her bottom lip and then lets her eyes sink closed. There's still the scent of food surrounding her, the taste lingering in her mouth, and her hungry stomach growling softly at her. There's all of the distractions of the chamber -- the noises, the temperature. And there's Qutha beside her, eating and existing.. whether or not he means to be, an unavoidable father-figure that she's constantly trying to impress (which, at times like these, can make the effort of concentrating even more difficult as she struggles to move faster than her skills allow).
"Don't try. Does or doesn't."
The effort to concentrate palpable and Qutha continues at his breakfast as calmly as he had initially started. Getting more gravy and sliced meats into the next mouthful and nodding to himself while he observes... albeit passively.
"An n'if y'doesn'... 'ain' a sign of failin'. S'jus' a sign y'us still lookin' fer yer breeze to blow on." the fractional smile in his voice as he speaks, a dreaming quality added as he lets his own consciousness float - a perpetual state for the mystic really. It's more firm reality he has the harder grasp of maintaining these days.
"The distractions has they's language. N'in time y'll learn t'unnerstan' what they's sayin'."
Lira takes a deep breath, trying to let go of her self-imposed expectations. She feels the weight of her past, her unexplored connection to Ryloth, and her insatiable desire to excel in her Jedi training. Qutha's words, however, act like a soothing balm, grounding her once more.
"It's just... sometimes, it feels like there's so much I still need to understand, so much I need to become," she murmurs, her voice barely audible amidst the ambient distractions of the chamber.
She draws in a breath slowly, reaching out to the parts of the Force that she can touch -- the way it flows around her, the little rocks that still surround her, the half-eaten food that still sits nearby her legs.
And then she seems to find it... her center. Her breathing slows and steadies, and she takes that Force that she's drawn into her and pushes it back out around her like a bubble, allowing herself to sit in the middle of the calm center while the 'rapids' of the Force flow around her. Instead of pushing it, she just tries to hold that bubble... to exist in that sphere of quiet.
"There's plenny I still aught need t'unnerstan'... Plenny even Rey'r Galen... Al'us learnin'. We's only fail t'learn when we thinks we ain' got more t'know..." drawing out his pipe and casually tamping in some tabac while he speaks. Food set aside for the time bein. Nodding to himself while Lira finds her center and gains her grasp while setting out her anchors there.
His own smile remaining in place while the zelosian concentrates, thinking of the sun, of heat, of the Lights sparkling in the eternal night of the galaxy that remain imperceptible without the forces aid. Flicking his thumb over his finger, a simple charlatan's trick that has been a source of inspiration that results in a flat 'thup' sound. Looking to his fingers and then the pipe before his attention drifts back to Lira.
"Still got things t'learn f'm'own growth... N'y'ull fin' they's always a higher step. Jus cain't perceive that as a peak... or worse, a wall."
Lira, sensing the introspective nature of the moment, remains silent for a few breaths, absorbing Qutha's words as she settles in that peaceful bubble. Every session with him, every conversation, felt like peeling back the layers of a complex tapestry, revealing intricacies that she hadn't noticed before.
"I guess," she starts, her voice sounding a little more distant and much more peaceful than it usually does, "it's easy to forget that even our teachers, our masters, are still on their own journeys -- that the path of a Jedi isn't about reaching an end."
She looks over at him, a newfound respect shining in her eyes. "You've seen so much, experienced so much, yet you still seek knowledge. It's both humbling and inspiring."
One of her lavender hands turns over, though, and she plucks a little lighter out of a belt pouch. She lets it go and uses the Force to guide it up, floating it up in front of him before striking it so a little flame glows and flickers in the drafts -- an offering, rather than a thing she forces on him. After all, he might not be done trying to strike it himself. Still, the offer is there, with a pleasant little purple smile on her lips.
... teachers on their own journeys. Indeed.
"Thank you.. for always being so patient with me."
"Patience is, as I's said, our foundation."
The flame created by Lira's lighter flowing of its own accord, suddenly, in a spiraling serpent until it is a finger held above the bowl of his pipe, setting the tabac alight while he puffs. "Thankee." Qutha gives a nod, as though to indicate that the flame she provided was the step he was in need of.
"I'udn' say's I's humblin' or inspirin'. But thankee all the same. I'd say's the examples made by m'self n'the others is like books in a library. Volumes t'study. Examples t'take y'own lessons from, both f'how to proceed n'how t'not. Mistakes teach better'n success, after all. We's cain't see how we might do aught better ifn' we's just do it' the way's we thought t'do it, with results."
His grin growing while he puffs, Qutha takes a moment now with smoke curling from his nostrils, "Callin' it jus' the Jedi Arts, is a misnomer, ifn' y'ask me. It's a Science... it's Chaos... n'it's Art... All've which y'learn by doin'. Mos've it by failin' n'a little by success."
Lira smiles a bit as she watches. Another version of her might have been awed or even inspired by the sudden partnership that created the pyrotechnic display -- after all, she /was/ a fire dancer -- but she seemed so much more subdued than she normally was. Happy. Curious. But peaceful.
Calm.
The lighter goes out once Qutha's done with it and it returns to her hand, snapping closed and returned to the pocket from whence it came.
"The more I learn, the more it really feels just like my fire dancing -- science, chaos, art. Dangerous if you don't start slow... practice, and even then, you stumble a lot, but you have to keep trying again.. and again."
She smiles a bit.
"I try to learn from your mistakes.. you just don't make many." She pauses, then, a grin quirking one corner of her lips. "Not in front of me, anyway."
"I make plenny, but not all's visible. Mos' when we's gotta do aught out in the field... when I has t'swing a saber 'round." a bit of distaste washing his features at the notion of combat, "But you's got the rights of it, right there. Proper analogy n'all. Jus' the way's y'worded it is spot on, tell true."
Qutha puffs slowly, letting his pipe hang from one corner of his mouth and lifting up his food again to begin swirling the gravy with his biscuit before he nods in the direction his lighter hangs,
"N'jus like I promised... Said I'd come t'learn fire. I's startin' t'make m'headways." one shoulder lifting, "Ain' got no reckonin' how's I might ken t'dancin'. But I'll giv'r a look... n'either succeed or fail'n contin'er t'learn. Tell you what."
Lira preens a bit at the approval, the success of today's lesson standing out as a marked success compared to her past frustrations both in practice and in even understanding the concepts of what she needed to do to center herself.
"I think you'd make a great dancer. And who knows? Maybe a little fire dancing will ignite some previously unrealized love for lightsaber forms..." There's a bit of twinkle of amusement in her eyes at that.
"I've been thinking I might go back to the circus part time, though, and teach an acrobatics class for kids.. maybe do some fire dancing while I'm there. It's been a while since I've performed." Since she joined the order, anyway. "I know it's a lot with everything else, but I thought that coaching the kids might help me remember where I started... and it's a way to be social."
Plus, she missed Sabra, even if she wasn't going to admit that.
"I'd warn against that to start, but I unnerstan' the want t'git out there. Less ifn' y'er jus' teachin' n'not as a performer. Even out in Hutt space, the spotlight is were we mos' def'nitely don't wanner be." Qutha's brow knits and his pipe is removed for him to take a bite of his gravy-ey biscuit, taking the time spent chewing to think.
"Tell you what... you keep it to teachin'... not p'formin'... I'll letcher teach me how t'do y'us firedancin'... Deal?" another bite taken and the older zelosian watches the youth, curiosity clear towards how she might respond written over his features and his presence in the force.
