Wind warnings

A storm is predicted for today with very high winds on the West coast of Ireland. We live in an inner and outer world that is always changing, but give a lot of importance to the things which pass through each day. We can be blown out of control, ceaselessly worrying about the past (which cannot be changed) or the future (which exists only in our imagination).  Our practice to find a still place: the mind that knows movement does not, in itself, move.

One windy day two monks were arguing about a flapping banner. The first said, “I say the banner is moving, not the wind.” The second said, “I say the wind is moving, not the banner.” A third monk passed by and said, “The wind is not moving. The banner is not moving. Your minds are moving.”

Raymond Kurzweil, The Singularity is Near

Be here now

When you sit in a café, with a lot of music in the background and a lot of projects in your head, you’re not really drinking your coffee or your tea. You’re drinking your projects, you’re drinking your worries. You are not real, and the coffee is not real either. Your coffee can only reveal itself to you as a reality when you go back to your self and produce your true presence, freeing yourself from the past, the future, and from your worries. When you are real, the tea also becomes real and the encounter between you and the tea is real. This is genuine tea drinking.

Thich Nhat Hahn

The heart

If I make a metaphor of my body,
it’s a desert. One part longing,

one part need, the rest withstanding. Of course
I would prefer to be thirsty

for nothing.

Kayleb Rae Candrilli, American poet

Slowing Down

The end of the year in the Christian Calendar. A different rhythm begins tomorrow with the start of Advent

In this world of speed and distraction, choosing to be less busy feels almost countercultural; slowing down, eccentric. Perhaps it is, for there’s no denying the expansive, time-bending effects of awareness. Sometimes, I do call it meditation: I sit cross-legged on a cushion in my yoga room; I set a timer and focus on my breath, bringing my attention to bear on the elusive, invisible third eye in the center of my brow point. These sittings are humbling: My mind sneaks away, I chase it down, lead it back, tie it again and again to my breath. Eventually, if I’m not in a rush to get on to the next thing, a small, silent space clears. I savor the taste of quiet, roll it around on my tongue, feel the day’s contours softening and opening around me.

Katrina Kenison, Magical Journey: An Apprenticeship in Contentment

Moments in themselves

Psychologist Steve Taylor recalls watching tourists in the British Museum in London who weren’t really looking at the Rosetta Stone…on display in front of them , so much as preparing to look at it later, by recording images and videos on their phones. So intently were they focusing on using their time for a future benefit – for the ability to revisit or share the experience later on – that they were barely experiencing the exhibition itself at all. Of course, grumbling about young peoples smartphone habits is a favourite pastime of middle-aged curmudgeons like Taylor and me. But his deeper point is that we are all frequently guilty of something similar. We treat everything we’re doing – life itself in other words – as valuable only insofar as it lays the groundwork for something else.

from the always interesting Oliver Burkeman, Four Thousand Weeks: Time and How to LIve it

Non-doing

The sage Chuang-Tzu was walking with a disciple on a hilltop. They see a crooked, ancient tree without a single straight branch. The disciple says the tree is useless, nothing from it can be used and Chuang-Tzu replies, “That’s the reason it’s ancient. Everyone seem to know how useful it is to be useful. No one seems to know how useful it is to be useless”

Joseph Goldstein, The Practice of Loving Kindness for all