Tag Archives: present moment

No name, no story

The human personality is an edifice to the past. It is the conditioned self, the sum total of all of our experiences and of our reactions to those experiences. It’s why some of us are left-handed, others of us stutter, and why Glen Campbell did what he did while drinking like a fish and being unable to read a note of music. We haul this accumulation around with us. We think it is who we are, but it isn’t. It’s just mental and psychological stuff, a moldering pile of bellicosities and beliefs, of preferences and aversions, of memories and habits, of suspicions, traditions and worry patterns. It is good, now and then, to drop this congealment. To draw a breath. To see a bird without naming it.

No walls, robes or ceremonies

Life is a near-entirety of ordinary moments. Can we inhabit an ordinary moment without pining for a less ordinary moment, filling it with content or using it as a means to a more stimulating moment?

“One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to enquire in his temple.”

It’s not a building, the temple; it’s an ordinary moment.

Standing, walking

When you stand, do not favour one foot over the other. Note the scalene triangle connecting big and little toes to the centre of the heel. Allow your weight to fill this geometric. Do not stand with your knees locked.

Feet control legs, hands control arms. By attending to the extremities, we move gracefully, economically. Let the eyes lead the head, not the other way around. This prevents us from walking like tourists.