We make up our life moment by moment

Some brain-science thoughts giving the same message as yesterday’s meditation one…

Instead of seeing the brain as rigid, fixed in mode, programmed like a computer, there is now a much more biological and powerful notion of “experiential selection,” of experience literally shaping the connectivity and function of the brain.

But how then do our frames, our momentary moments, hold together? How, if there is only transience, do we achieve continuity? Our passing thoughts, as James says ( in an image which smacks of cowboy life in the l880’s) do not wander round like wild cattle. Each one is owned, our own, and bears the brand of this ownership, and each thought, in James’ words, is born an owner of the thoughts that went before, and “dies owned, transmitting whatever it realized as its Self to its own later proprietor.

We come around to Proust’s image, itself slightly reminiscent of photography…..that we consist entirely of “a collection of moments,” even though these flow into one another like Borges’s river.

Oliver Sachs, In the River of Consciousness

Develop a deep container

A similar idea to yesterday…

Let yourself be open and life will be easier.

A spoon of salt in a glass of water makes the water undrinkable.

A spoon of salt in a lake is almost unnoticed.

Jack Kornfield, Buddha’s little Instruction Book

A large meadow

 

The great Suzuki Roshi’s classic image on how meditation develops space in our lives and allows us work with whatever challenging thoughts arise: 

The way to control your sheep or cow is

to give him a large, spacious meadow .

Shunryu Suzuki, Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind

Sunday Quote: fishing

Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after.

Thoreau

Again and again

One can choose to go back toward safety or forward toward growth.

Growth must be chosen again and again;

fear must be overcome again and again.

 Abraham Maslow

Life doesn’t go in a straight line

I know there is no straight road 

No straight road in this world 

Only a giant labyrinth 

Of intersecting crossroads

Federico García Lorca, 1898 – 1936, Spanish poet