A Meditation

Look at the sky. In this moment. The clouds, the color, the birds, the sun.

It cannot be other than it is, in this moment.

Now turn your attention to the “sky” of your mind: the same vast backdrop—formless, ethereal, infinite.

The “weather” and activity of your mind also cannot be other than it is, in this moment.

Who would you blame for the sky in this moment? If the sun is too hot, the birds too busy, the clouds too gloomy?

Who would you blame? God? The Universe? Nature?

Certainly, you would not blame your self, or any other person.

And if there is no one to blame, then all that is left is to come to terms with what IS, in this moment, and every moment that follows.

When you live in the present, you lose track of Time. You no longer gauge how long you may have to live.

It is scary to let go of Time. To let go of awareness of Death. When we are aware of Death, it feels distant, like it is always on the horizon.

To be truly present is to remove the distance between our experience and oblivion. It is the recognition that Now is the only moment that exists, and that the future is just a mirage.

You are only alive for the present moment, but in each moment lies an Eternity.

Losing Gravity

Upright Soul

When you are learning to be more present, each moment has a feeling of wrongness to it. When you relish in the little things, like sunlight reflected from a watch dancing on the wall, it feels like a certain gravity is amiss, like you might just float away into nothing.

What is missing is worry. Worry is the weight which makes life heavy. Without it, we feel almost insubstantial. Insubstantial, but wonderful. It just takes awhile to get used to.

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