I have just been reminded that being connected actually requires no effort. In fact, becoming connected is disrupted by effort. For something that is so effortless our culture seems to be determined to keep me from being connected.
I live in a culture that is at war with itself on this issue. On one hand, the culture is full of distractions that seem intent on keeping me disconnected. How can I pay attention, how can I be aware of anything or anyone when the day is full of distractions: activities considered entertainment, imagined problems to be resolved by buying something, forms of promised happiness dangled before me to lure me from what is real.
At the same time, notions of being permanently connected in a stable future are constantly promoted. Ownership perpetuates a grasping of things that are supposedly mine. Relationships are promised with structures as contrived as marriage and nations. The very concepts that promise permanent relationships, lasting connectedness, have the seeds that promote disconnection, separateness and dissatisfaction.
I began to learn to be connected first when I practiced Tai Chi Chih. I gradually became more aware of my body and the energy flowing in it. I first relaxed and became intimate with my moving hands, arms and legs. The connection gradually sped throughout my whole body. I had to make no effort. I only had to yield to the moving parts, to relax into the feeling of movement. I learned to stop trying to feel and simply paid attention.
This experience of being connected stayed with me as I began a regular practice of meditation about three years ago. I yielded to a space and allowed myself to relax into it. I was encouraged by the new kind of joy I found.
I learned to connect to a strange void even while I was aware of the deep calm that filled my body. It has been very surprising in its simplicity.
My days are gradually being enlivened by similar aware moments of intimacy, of awareness of connection. Sometimes the intimacy is with a plant, sometimes with the ground or breeze. The connectedness is easiest for me to experience when I am aware of living things. I often bypass their color or fragrance and connect more with an awareness of their essence. They are simply present.
The hardest connections for me are with people. It is hard even though I have developed an open-heart that seems an open door for anyone to enter. This openness occurs routinely, often for people on the bus who are scarcely aware that I am present.
For people with whom I interact, it gets more complicated. Humans seem to require more trusting interactions for mutual connection or intimacy to occur. Unlike plants, there is no presumption of connection. On the contrary, we have been taught well to beware and suspect connection or intimacy. There is such resistance and caution.
The reteat I was on recently taught me otherwise. It was a time of greater mutual trust, connection and felt intimacy. I experienced a deep connection with the woods and with many people. It was a lovely time to feel unspoken, undefined, unclinging intimacy.
Being connected and clinging are not compatible. Felt connection is possible only by removing hinderances caused by clinging. Connection is more about yielding to impermanence. True intimacy is not achieved by clinging but instead naturally flows from yielding.
Awareness and insight lead to felt connection and intimacy. They affect the ways I am choosing to experience my connection with rocks, plants and people. I welcome the feeling of great freedom and intimacy.