the now

Day 292

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Optimism has been one of my strong traits.

I have believed in the ‘goodness’ of people and life.

Some might say it has bordered on stupidity or naivety.

Others might call the same thing, bravery or strength.

As for me, I would not have it any other way.

Some friends think I am brave, but I don’t think about being brave or not. All I know is that I don’t have a choice. In love, there are no choices. It is not up to me when and where I shatter into a thousand pieces, at which musical note or whiff of aroma the tears start to flow, how I speak about my son and the issues around his wonderfulness or his illness, why people can hear the tears in my voice, how inexplicably I experience immense peace out of nowhere. I don’t think of any of it as weakness or bravery. It is happening all on its own.

Every minute is different and I have no clue what comes next. Somehow, I carry on, putting one foot in front of the other.

“Have this unshakeable faith that whatever is the best for you, that alone will happen in life. Nature will only give you that which will uplift you higher in life. Keep this deep faith.”   -Sri Sri Ravi Shankar.

Day 291

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“Her weight is 8 pounds 9 ounces. Our son weighed 10 pounds 2 when he was born.”

“This little fellow has so much more hair than his sister.”

“This tiny thing is so much noisier than her brother.”

I often hear remarks like these from parents of new born babies. I suppose comparing the new with the old is natural to an extent. However, it doesn’t stop there. It is everywhere. Comparisons! A pointless exercise in weighing, measuring and often judging.

When I cycle, I do the same thing. I compare the cycles, speeds, clothes, calf muscles and road manners. I tut-tut those who jump the traffic light but when no one is watching, do the same myself. I make excuses to myself for being slower than some of the others, saying “Most of them are at least 20 years younger than me.”

More than the cycling, this constant unnecessary mental noise is exhausting. I caught myself this evening and forced myself to stop thinking and just feel the cool breeze on my face. As I looked up I saw an artistic splash of pinkish-orange and grayish-blue colours decorating the sky. Instantly, I felt light and found myself smiling.

Being observant is clever but it is not the same as being attentive. Putting attention on something does not mean thinking about it. It means to just observe it, to feel it fully, to acknowledge and accept it as it is.  One of the emotions that I have been observing within me is ‘non-forgiveness’. It is partly directed at myself and partly at the cruelty of time….How can there be so much uncertainty?…How can so much be beyond my control?

This endless loop is the mind’s plot to ensure I remain stuck.

Jesus said, “Before you enter the temple. Forgive.”

Day 290

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As the days go by, I find that one of the tools I have that can help me feel better, but I just take for granted and do not pay much attention to, is my body. I can use it to distract myself, to feel good and useful. Yoga sessions, cycle rides, showers and long walks make me feel light, happy and healthy.

This dense physical structure called the body is not the real me. It is a vehicle that carries that which is beyond birth and death. Yet within its impermanence lies concealed the splendour of our essential and immortal reality. Eckhart Tolle describes the concept of an invisible inner body, veiled by the gross body that we can see and touch. It is the doorway into Being.

For brief periods of time I can keep my attention on the inner body and that keeps me from loosing myself in my mind. Thoughts, emotions, desires and noises coming from the outer world don’t seem to have much hold on me. I can stay anchored in the Now. However this happens for short intervals of time. I need more practice, to be mindful of my inner body when I work, listen, speak, read or sit still.

“As long as you are in conscious contact with your inner body, you are like a tree that is deeply rooted in the earth.”
Eckhart Tolle

Day 284

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0964

Being me feels like being a porcelain that’s been put back together.
The adhesive is transparent but the cracks are not.
It is hollow and empty yet, whole and complete.

It may look like a weaker and uglier version of its former self but it is just different.

Now it has no aspirations for itself.
It has surrendered.
What is, is. What will be, will be.

The crevices are dark and deep.
They may not hold water very well but they allow for the connection with the outside to be.
The fissures have come about somehow.
Who decides where they go and what patterns they form?

The fragments still hold together by some unknown force.

This evening while visiting a friend’s house, while everyone was engaged in interesting conversations and there was a lot of laughter all around, the sounds fell on my ear drums but my mind could only think one thought – he used to baby sit their kids in this living room. He spent a lot of time here. I wonder what was his favourite spot on the sofa, his favourite picture, his preferred coffee mug ……

“When the Japanese mend broken objects, they aggrandize the damage by filling the cracks with gold. They believe that when something has suffered damage and has a history, it becomes more beautiful.” – Billie Mobayed.

Kintsugi is a Japanese art form especially dedicated to repairing damaged objects in such a way.

Day 282

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Silence.

Does it exist in its own right or is it the mere absence of sound?
The revolutions of electrons around the nucleus in every atom must create some vibrations.
How do gazillions of them exist without a whisper?
Does the universe hum at an inaudible frequency?
Does the earth rumble silently at it’s core?
When I sit still with my eyes closed, my mind begins to yell but no words are uttered. Is that silence?

Music is a series of silences.
Would the sound of quiet breathing be called silent?
The night is an invisible silence.
Wonder what shape and colour silence is?
Or is it a formless concept?
Does it travel in waves or particles?

Is it silence that connects beings or is it words?
Is it as limitless as eternity or does it disappear in an instant?
Does it sit deep within us waiting to be discovered?
Or does it harmonise our inner wavelength with that of the outer world?

Do televisions and radios destroy it for us or help us to appreciate it?
Sometimes it means ‘no’ and other times ‘yes’.
It can be a sign of weakness or strength.

Do we need to go away on a ‘retreat’ to experience it or can it be accessed in the middle of a traffic jam?
Is it the sound just before a bird starts to sing?

The silence in my soul is the same as the silence in your soul, my darling.
Love is silence.