Two sentences leapt out to me from yesterday’s reading… “If we are present in front of life, each morning is a new space, a new time.”; and, “A morning is a symphony; for it to be there or not depends on your presence.”
If we are not “present”, then we don’t see the newness of each moment, or in other words, the morning wouldn’t be a symphony, but rather just a path to the rest of your day. I can honestly say that I experienced being “present” yesterday. It carried over today too, when the Buddha statue on my front entryway looked just divine as the sun beamed over his face.
But, I have to confess, I am afraid of losing it, afraid that I may slip back into thinking of every moment as a path to somewhere, because that is easy. “Presence” is such a profound feeling that I felt a compulsive need to share it, share it with all, including my kids. I pondered over this, and wondered how I would describe it to my 9 and 11-year olds. Still struggling, but this is the best I have come up with so far.
There are a couple of 3-D portraits in my hallway, those that on first blush look like several random colored dots just adorning the wall. But these paintings are fascinating- because when we stop by to just stare, zone out in some ways, then a picture seems to pop out, literally I mean. Oh, wow, is that really a garden, hidden in there? Once you see it, it is amazing to see how you might not have noticed it before. But, tomorrow, as I hurry past the painting on the wall getting ready to rush out, the morning becomes just a path, and the 3-D painting just a framed picture of random dots. “So sweetie”, I rehearse, in my mind, “being present is being able to notice the picture that pops out of the random dots.”