Newspaper work all day. Arriving in early afternoon, a colleague says, I wonder how many people died in Afghanistan today.
Later, at home in my room, I notice that outside the window the sky is a stunning blue.
Then I wonder when was the last time I sat.
It occurs to me that sitting, what is often called meditation, can be simply understood as just opening to this life as it is. It’s nothing but coming back to this very moment of my being, giving myself to it. So simple.
It’s just the blue sky, the orange curtains, the tired eyes, the water running in the kitchen, a recollection of something said weeks ago, a smile, the tilt of an eyebrow in a photograph I haven’t seen for years, a tinge of undefined longing. And then it’s not.
I don’t know how many people were born or died today in Afghanistan or anywhere else.
I don’t know a thing. I don’t even know that.
All I do is give myself to that.
Merci Sensei, je t’adore..
I offer simply "yes," "yes" and "yes" to each of your kind comments.
Tu es cela..mais je ne sais pas..
Hi Tu,
What is the best way to describe this relationship; giving oneself to it? Opening to it? Coming back to it? Loving it? Being it? What about; being in self-evident harmony with it?
Maybe putting it in words is – like they say in the Blue Cliff Record -“adding frost to snow”.
Am glad you take up another season of teaching.
Ting
Have you had your breakfast today?
🙂