presence

It is February.

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In January, fourteen blog-posts rolled on to the page, inspired, with sparkling newness, a fresh resolve. Then twenty days sneaked past, and nothing appeared. Wonder why? What is it we can trust?

The body?

One of the most fragile things around, it aches and creaks, often deceiving itself with imagined abilities and fantastical visions. It morphs every day in its special small way, without a clue what happens next. Can we depend on its trustworthiness?

The mind?

It doubts to the point of debilitation, endlessly compares un-comparables, guards its ideas like a dog, but softens and changes its opinions when presented another point of view. Every now and then it simply loses itself, out of the blue. What can we do?

The Universe?

Sounds great. But what does that relationship look like? Seems rather theoretical.

So, what is constant? What can we trust?

The thing that is not a thing and yet, can be called everything. The thing that is nowhere but can be thought of as everywhere. The thing that appears as me but is in fact invisible. The thing that is localised in each of us but is colourless, featureless, unbound. The thing that is beyond stillness and movement, beyond light and dark.

Awareness. The one that knows. Not as a person but as an intelligence. A presence. An eternity in this moment. Here. That always was, is, and always will be. That can be trusted, not to get things done, but to know. Know every experience of being in this body, having this mind, perceiving the world through these eyes. This is how it is.  That knowing. Beyond sounds and beyond silence.

The time is always Now.

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Once upon a time there was a beggar. He sat at a street corner, pleading for scraps. Anything – pennies, food, clothing. For thirty years, he had lived in dire poverty. One day a young man came along and asked him, “What is it that you sit on?”

“It’s an old wooden box.” mumbled the beggar.

‘Shall we have a look inside it?’

“It’s not worth looking at. I found it in a rubbish heap years ago.”

‘Ever looked inside?’

“No. What’s the point? There’s nothing in there.”

‘I can help you dust it down if you like.’

“Can you spare some change for me please?”

‘Yes. After we’ve looked at the box you sit on.’

“If you insist…”

They took the rotten old blanket off the wooden box and managed to pry it open. With utter disbelief, astonishment and elation they saw a heap of glittering gold-coins within.

While we look for scraps of pleasure, fulfillment, validation and security outside of us, the true wealth of deep unshakable peace and the radiant joy of Being lies within us. Inspired by “The Power of Now”, a book by Eckhart Tolle, I’ve been practicing making this moment the focus of my attention, surrendering to what is and saying ‘yes’ to life, noticing the direct relationship between inner resistance and pain, observing the subtle life-force that flows through my body, witnessing my emotions arise and cease as sensations in my chest and tummy. I have learnt to trust myself. I have found glimpses of freedom from my mind and felt my presence as one with the Universe. Who would’ve thought this possible?

Earlier this week I had the honour of sharing some of the theory, practice and research on this subject through an on-line presentation entitled “Making Friends with Now”. Many thanks to The Compassionate Friends for making this teaching accessible to many.

Making Friends with Now: https://youtu.be/TUC6PQ3l-Ls .

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