Experience has taught me the moment is all I have, and it is more than enough. Yet, my ego remains suspicious. It believes there is more.
Byron Katie said, “when you want nothing from anyone else, you’re safe for anyone to be with, including yourself.”
Michael A Singer wrote that when we understand the world is merely something of which to be aware, then “the world will let us be who we are.”
I do manage to do that, from time to time, and when I do, my view of the world is completely changed. Whether in or out of the meditative state, in these moments I am who I am, and the world responds in kind.
It’s not pure, this awareness, just an evenness of mind. The banquet laid before me is more than I could ever imagine. This state stays until I try to hold onto it. The mere attempt at attachment and it evaporates.
My mind returns to ping-pong between the future and past regarding this and that. It whirs, images blur. What was clear and calm is chaos. And I begin to want, again.
Trusting in groundlessness seems impossible, yet how can I not?
Experience has taught me there is a point of balance in each day, no matter how pervasive the impossible. It is mine to find the fulcrum and respond with adjustments.
I have a greater appreciation of the unique, accepting that no day ever repeats. I’m grateful for that. Somehow, it lessens my fear that I am not enough.
With that confidence, I sit in the seat of self and open my laptop to Facebook for uniqueness in both the moment and in human beings.
Some of the best Facebook threads are missed by those who comment without regard for reading. Often, that’s a source of irritation, resulting in much asserting of who is lacking. Soon, the original context is completely lost. So many are found wanting, and some demand it.
Social media context is easily misread yet what better opportunity to practice awareness, to get comfortable with “tossing around right and wrong.” It seems impossible, increasingly.
Sometimes, silence is the point of balance in my social media moments. The seat of self offers observation– allowing me to read—to listen hard for the tone. Selecting an emoji signals that I heard.
Sometimes, that is all I have.