In our practice we keep returning to the present moment, trying to pay attention and stay there. Life continually gives occasions for practicing this skill and especially for noticing how many times we are away. The present is really the only time there is and the more we practice with it, the more we see how each moment is special, and to a certain extent complete. However, in another important sense, our practice allows us see that the present is fluid and incomplete and that being open to this also holds a real richness. It allows us hold a space, between the past and the future, ready for all possibilities, not needing to know the whole picture but rather trusting that it will appear in its own time:
In-between is where humans always are,
thats what we have to welcome,
a story with an uncertain ending.
And this condition is interesting if you inhabit it;
it’s alive.
If I’m facing something that I don’t know what to do,
the “not knowing” is what is true,
and the resources that I have,
deeply ignorant that I am,
will have to be enough.
John Tarrant
I’m not sure I will ever get to the point of enjoying the not knowing—right now I’m working on not running in terror from it. Something to strive for.