Noticing what we see

Another English writer to help us, maybe not as literary as Wordsworth, but just as insightful.

“Holmes you see everything!”  Watson exclaimed.

“I see no more than you,

but I have trained myself to notice what I see“, said Holmes.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventure of the Blanched Soldier

Being genuine

The ancients used to say that God was “simple”, in the sense of wholeness, without parts, just simply being. We strive for that, trying to be coherent and consistent in our words and deeds, and not divided, but fully present in our attention to others.  Here is a nice story from the Zen tradition which shows what it would be like to be genuine in our words and relationships.

When Zen master Bankei died, the old blind man who used to sit outside the temple said how sad he was. ‘You see, since I am blind I cannot watch people’s faces, so I judge their character by the sound of their voices. And it is this way. When most people are given the news of another person’s good fortune or success they, of course, congratulate the fortunate person, but virtually always beneath the words of gladness, I hear another note, a secret note of envy, envy that it is not they themselves who have been so fortunate. Again, when most people are given the news of some calamity that has befallen another person they, of course, express their sorrow towards the afflicted person, but virtually always, beneath the words of sorrow, I hear another note, a secret note of pleasure and satisfaction that it is not they themselves upon whom the calamity has fallen. With Bankei, however, it was not so. When he expressed gladness at another’s good fortune all you heard was gladness. When he expressed his sorrow, all you heard was ­sorrow.’

Being held

It took a long time for the analytical world to look at the importance of the way a baby is held, and yet when you come to think of it, this is of primary importance. The question of holding brings up the whole issue of human reliability.   Winnicott

I love the sense of natural movement in this poem by Rilke, and the delicate gentleness of the last line. We change, are shaken and fall, as nature does, and this can seem frightening at times. It can agitate us as it goes against the security we have when things are firm. To give us confidence we need some sense of being held. Because, as Winnicott reminds us, a person’s  most formative experiences comes from the way their caregivers “hold” them, as that allows them feel grounded in the face of the uncertainties of life. Meditation practice allows us create that security within, and develop an inner stability, which is hard to shake, no matter what comes up. We trust and can let our lives unfold gently, lightly, each breath and each moment floating and falling, held in awareness.

The leaves are falling, falling as if from afar,
as if withered in the distant gardens of heaven;
with nay-saying gestures they fall.

And in the nights falls the heavy earth
from all the stars into loneliness.

We all are falling. This hand there falls.
And look at the others: it is in all of them.

And yet there is one, who holds all this falling
with infinite gentleness in his hands.

Rainer Maria Rilke, Autumn


Asleep

In essence,  mindfulness is about wakefulness.

Our minds are such that we are often more asleep than awake

to the unique beauty and possibilities of each present moment as it unfolds.

Jon Kabat Zinn

The seasons change…note the craving to be otherwise today.

The changing of the seasons reminds us that we too are always changing, as we move from birth to death. There are also continual mini seasons in our lives, as we have periods of growth and rest, of planting and bearing fruit. And the same dynamic is even seen in each moment, and is at the heart of being aware:

The present moment hovers between past and future, just as life hovers between birth and death. We respond to both in similar ways. Just as we flee from the awesome encounter with birth and death to the safety of a manageable world, so we flee from the pulse of the present to a fantasy world…..Evasion of the unadorned immediacy of life is as deep-seated as it is relentless. Even with the ardent desire to be alert and aware in the present moment, the mind flings us into tawdry and tiresome elaborations of the past and future. The craving to be otherwise, to be elsewhere, permeates the body, feelings, perceptions, will – consciousness itself. It is like the background radiation from the big bang of birth, the aftershock of having erupted into existence.

Stephen Bachelor, Buddhism without Beliefs

The difficulty of just being

It is hard to be fully present to another person, focusing completely on them and their needs, withour our own concerns, desires and needs getting in the way. We practice so that we can be really present, fully aware of the other, losing ourselves in a certain sense, so that the other can feel completely understood and appreciated.

No matter how quiet we are, the muskrats stay hidden.

Maybe they sense the tense hum of consciousness, the buzz from two human beings who in silence cannot help but be aware of each other, and so of themselves.

Annie Dilliard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek