Month: December 2019

As the earth has begun to tilt back toward the sun, I am attentive to the constant experience of change. It is a good time for me to remember that I am on a planet that is traveling around the sun at the remarkable speed of over 66,000 miles per hour. I am reminded of the way we use time and space to measure and observe change. Measuring speed is a way we attempt to express what appears to be a movement involving time and space.

My whole sense of change is dependent on and involves what I perceive as time and space. I think of a day in units of time invented by humans to measure what appears to be the movement of the sun across the sky. Humans have gone to great length to establish an unchanging basis for time, but still even that basis is constantly changing. It all is relative.

Even the measurement of space is relative, based on a perception that ignores the changing nature of the standard. If I can remove either aspect of change, either time to space, my experience of change vanishes.

Even if I attempt to examine what I experience without any measurement of time , there still is a before and an after. It is also a challenge to direct attention to any experience without evoking a notion of occupancy of space. It is difficult to step away from a world where space and time appear to be a constant. I mostly live in a persistent deception that space and time are a constant, and they are both changing.

There are moments of concentration when the notions of space and time do become uncertain. I sometimes feel I am on the edge of something wonderful and magnificent, the edge of an experience where there is no time and no space. I sometimes enjoy standing on the edge of that unchanging, non-relative reality. It is a distant sense of no change.

Very slowly, the feeling of release is creeping into my life. I’ve never found much comfort or appropriateness in the common notion of “letting go.” That well-worn expression has too much the feeling of disengagement, stepping out of the situation, abandonment.

I find it much easier to embrace the notion of “release”. It has all the feeling of an unfolding flower. It allows me to be fully present while releasing control. I let the situation unfold, but never step away from it.

When I experience release, I no longer experience constraints. The feeling of discomfort, or dis-ease, departs. All my life, I have struggled to be free of the constraints that society, my culture places on me. All the while, it has mostly been my internal struggle to release myself from my adopted notions of how things are. When I experience release, I feel like I have finally come home.

My meditation pillow is my training platform. When I meditate, I rapidly slip into a state of release. I leave all notions of my body, the room, the world behind and release myself into a formless space. My stepping-off point is my breath. Being aware of my breath, then releasing that feeling of physicality as I become aware that I am aware, allows me to enter into that formless space. I have a deep and full feeling of release as the experience of an unfolding flower saturates my presence.

For me, this is a release into something that must be like an experience of absorption. Concentration does not arise by force. Instead, concentration arises when I release my notion of how things are. More likely, I am releasing my mind from any notion of what things should be like.

Release does not just happen but results from an extended progression for a gradual seclusion from my notions of reality. It is a gradual relinquishment from all I have learned, from all my mental and emotional constraints. I am gradually able to be free, released from physical and emotional disturbances.

In time, I am becoming released from all I know, from the constraints of knowledge. I am no longer sure of anything. I am especially not sure of what others tell me. I constantly ask myself, “Are you sure?” The question releases my mind from the constricting moorings of certitude. I become slightly awash in a sea of infinite possibilities.

I am but a beginner in this business of release. It is something of a new experience for me. I am discovering, however, that when I intend to release, I become released. That is an experience of fullness, energy and joy. I feel like I have come home.

I notice how much energy I put into the future. There is such an allure to put attention on what might occur in the future that I often scarcely notice what is going on right now Sometimes I am distracted by the allure of the future. I’m not sure if this is is how I have been trained or if it happens naturally. I know that being a “planner” is a skill valued in our culture.

The future is often like a siren song luring me to a place that does not exist. It becomes the focus of my attention and my efforts. I recognize that some of this is important for living in the relative world, a place that relies on time and space for structure. I like it better when I live in the moment I have right now, rather than be captivated by a promised future. It could be an alluring future filled with delightful attraction or beckoning me to a place of fear and dread.

I often worry about the future, that it is something to be avoided or solved so that it has limited impact. I am drawn by an expectation that a future will give me the satisfaction and joy I do not now possess. Because of the alluring future, I miss the joys and satisfaction of the moment.

I notice that there are people who live in the expectation, the allure of a future rapture. The notion of a future heaven is such a strong part of our culture and part of our avoidance of suffering and death. It is a future heaven that is always just out of reach, and a distraction from where we are, what we can do right now. The allure of a future happiness can cause me to miss the opportunity to enjoy the rapture available to me right now.

The promise of a future heaven or threat of a future hell can easily be a distraction from the good or the harm that I can bring about right now. Keeping my “eye on the prize” may make sense from a planning perspective, but it is not a full way to live. I want my prize to be right now.

Having a peripheral awareness of possible futures makes for good preparation, for good planning. I do not want to put much energy, however, in something that might eventually exist or never happen. I want to maximize my attention and energy in a present moment. I want to avoid the allure of the future.

I notice how much energy I put into the future. There is such an allure to put attention on what might occur in the future that I often scarcely notice what is going on right now Sometimes I am distracted by the allure of the future. I’m not sure if this is is how I have been trained or if it happens naturally. I know that being a “planner” is a skill valued in our culture.

TO BE CONTINUED