The Fall

There are moments when one feels free from one's own identification with human limitations and inadequacies. At such moments one imagines that one stands on some spot of a small planet, gazing in amazement at the cold yet profoundly moving beauty of the eternal, the unfathomable; life and death flow into one, and there is neither evolution nor destiny; only Being. - Albert Einstein

Come into this moment. That's the invitation. Again and again. Simply noting when the mind runs like a wild horse into the future, or slinks into the past snail like... just find yourself present once more. Scanning breath, energy, and thought to move past those very limitations. Enjoying the roots under your feet, the sky above and the air on your skin.

We have all had those moments, however fleeting of interconnectedness, of dissolving beyond form, and feeling "at one" with our surroundings. Perhaps on a walk, or noticing the unbridled joy of a small child in a restaurant, or the rhythm in the nature around us, within us- even the symphonic dance of cars on the highway.

When that horse or snail emerge once more, we can sometimes want to cling to the moment we just had, mourn its loss, want it back, want to recapture...

Our work is to let each moment flow into the next. Letting go of needing to nail it down, capture it, save it, savor it.
That felt so good! I want to stay here! This is a pain free place, I need to keep this!

In our ecstasy of being deeply present, we are carried away again into longing and desire, knocked off the steadiness that is found between, the very act of opening sending us spiraling.

Yet another path presents itself. Let yourself go for the ride. Learn to breathe with whatever is coming next. Allow yourself to say "yes" to each and every moment. Notice where you are saying "no" and send yourself compassion and just tap in once again. No judgment, no self-criticism. Just patient, loving and tireless observation and practice.

How long must I walk the path? When will I know? When do we get there?
The walking itself is the destination.

Consider this proverb: "Life is a bridge. Cross over it, but build no house on it." When the seasons change we are thrust palpably into the transitioning, reminded of what it feels like, smells like, tastes like. Work with this flow, with its interplay on your body as we wax and wane between cool and warm weather, as the leaves dance to the ground, as all is swirling to a slower pace and circadian rhythm.

Take some time to get outdoors, to get moving, to notice the ebb and flow of floating between form and formlessness. Notice the temporary shelters we inevitably build. Give yourself permission to dismantle them as you are ready and keep moving. Again and again and again.

Hoh.