I have experienced dropping out of ( for want of an explanation )my head, or what I call the everyday into what was pure awareness a profound place of peace from where the witness witnessed, even the witnessing. In meditation I have tasted hints of it, but the experience came whilst I was driving, sat waiting at traffic lights. It lasted seconds, brief minutes, but was at once beyond time, eternal. I was in control of a vehicle and potentially holding up a queue of traffic, and that had no significance, there was no panic, no charge, simply awareness of all there was and wasn’t present in that moment. Although a brief moment in time as we know it, the profound depth of it is somehow still embedded in me. I haven’t been back there, yet the memory of it is so strong it somehow it never leaves me.
I feel the profound tenderness of impermanence in the autumn. Those precious last days, hours even, of warmth and light, when the last few delicate leaves pepper bare branches. Truly delicious days that fill me with joy and deep gratitude.
I found myself reactive to this passage. Whilst I honour, practice and aspire to mindfulness I know it to be a huge privilege, denied to many, and the many the most vulnerable, so often trapped in the addiction of unhealthy relationships, food abuse, alcohol abuse, substance abuse etc. Obviously there is a spectrum of addiction and the author is talking about fine tuning for those already towards the sunny end of it, but never the less, to not acknowledge the privilege of those who find themselves on the sunny side lacks compassion. The lack of warmth and understanding made me feel uncomfortable, as all elitism does. In addition, I know from personal experience and years of being an holistic therapist that addiction does not all come from the brain. For example an unbalanced microbiome can cause craving which can become addiction.
In our perfectly imperfect world I wonder what percentage of people actually experience sustained unconditional nurturing support. I doubt it is many, and on this the wheel of our perfectly imperfect world turns.
Ill health has been, is, a powerful teacher in my life. Stripping egoic layers away, taking me defencelessly into moments of exquisite stillness that I am deeply, deeply grateful for and wouldn't trade. Experiences that have forged the me I am in this moment and that I fully embrace. It is not the whole story though for I am not talking about terminal diagnosis, there is also life, recovery, hope, the chance to bring the gems of wisdom hewn in the darkest of moments into the world to sparkle. Diagnosis is such a powerful thing. As 'stream' mentioned in their comments, there are many incorrect and clumsy attempts at diagnosis that cause much damage. For myself, this too has been much 'grist for my mill', finding compassion for the ignorance of medics no small thing. Yet, accurate diagnosis is a light that can illuminate the path of healing, and offers a dynamic process. Staying open and curious to the vast choices of what may be available, exploring and navigating these against the tide of conventional medicine, financial challenges, the fears of loved ones, the frustrations of fruitless dead ends, all this too 'illness' has in her lesson plan. With open curiosity diagnosis can be a potent and exciting jewel of information.
I have no story but want to share my gratitude for reading this memory and being reminded not to get sucked into being reactive and caught in the drama. THANK YOU
I am learning that Recognising the moment i am in a ‘nervous system state’ is the moment to hold myself in loving kindness. That I’ve probably overextended myself and need to stop and replenish.
I have enjoyed thinking about the ramifications of this concept. Thank you. It would seem to me that stealing has many greedy tentacles driven by unfulfilled needs. Competitivediscourse, not pausing to hear what peopleare sharing but charging ahead with a story about the self, is tome a form of stealing. In fact I would say that all foes of attention seeking are stealing as they demand something from someoneelse with an assumption they have it to give.
On Nov 26, 2024 Annie Willerton wrote on The Best Day Of My Life, by Douglas Harding: