Methinks There’s a Whole Lot of Overthinking Going On

So much anxiety taking me over. Overwhelming all possibility of rational thought. I guess that doesn’t have to be such a bad thing in itself, but along with that often redundant supposedly rational thought, has gone equilibrium, peace of mind, calmness, and silence.

No silence. But a little breakthrough: I’ve told myself (my Self?) I won’t wallow. In this way I am opposing, resisting, the anxiety with discipline, with bravery, and, well, more discipline. So I turned in another direction: I worked on a couple of photographs.

Fantasies both for sure. But that’s Art responding as Art ought isn’t it? Fantasy. Anyway, it works better than anxiety, which of course is also fantasy isn’t it?

So, anyway, I’m resisting. I refuse to give in and allow the anxiety to take over and dictate my behaviour, tell me how to and what to speak, and exhaust me.

Yes, it is exhausting. I always say that resistance is never ever futile, but it sure is tiring. And there are other ways: Just chant. That’s the thing I tell myself a lot, just keep focus on the mantra, and all will be well.

Mind you at the moment I am having an atrocious period of trouble with my devotional practice. Forgetting the Divine seems to be the norm these last days – even as I sit preparing for daily practice.

It’s kind of a catch 22 thing I think sometimes: If I can chant more then I can help myself achieve a little more equilibrium, relieve the anxieties a little. But because I overthink those anxieties and all the intricacies of every thought, I forget to chant.

So, it does indeed look like discipline and self-control are the keys here. There’s a phrase, a kind of motto I like: One thing, God alone. Call it right living, or peace, or calm, or mindfulness, the Divine; it’s all the same thing. That’s where my focus has to be above all else.

Actually, not wanting to risk overthinking here, but when you do think about it, focusing my life on what is good and right; what is calm and peaceful; what it true, well, that’s the whole of it isn’t it? I mean that takes care of all the mundane stuff almost in an automatic way.

It seems that in just about every one of my posts I end up talking about presence. In this case, I think presence might have to at least sometimes be worked on. I mean to say that the discipline and self-control I was talking about, needs to centre around being present.

In other words, as my anxious mind wanders off on its fiendish ways, I am to just pay attention, turn away a little, put the focus back on the good, on God, and remember.

I really do feel (actually let’s be honest, let’s say it how it is), I think that I am always simply overthinking. Or thinking way too much, too often, anyway.

And along with my mind, my typing fingers can run away with themselves if I let them. So, I’ll just say see you next time!

Put Me in My Place. Please

Reverence the place and learn from what you see


Coming across this note last night, I was stumped. I coudln’t think where it had come from, where I’d seen it; nothing at all came to mind. And an online search just now failed to turn up anything either. I mean I must have read it somewhere. Or is it possible it came from me?

Of course it’s all the same: there is only one source. At any rate, it’s an injunction one can relate to anywhere, any place. It’s surely about presence?

And about learning from all that is to be seen (heard, felt, intuited, known) in whatever place one is in now. I mean, the place I’m in now. I am here and it is now.

I’m reminded of the faith affirmation (is it a prayer?) that seems to have been written for this particular hermit pilgrim:

As a a hermit, I am a pilgrim dependent on a pure faith that I am exactly where God wold have me be now.

Sometimes I think that too much thinking about and angst over places other than the one I’m actually in right now, is a sure and certain way to resist and reject any reverencing of the place I’m in, not to mention what’s to be learned or gifted from the experience of being here.

And of course that angst, worry, wishful thinking, or whatever, comes with its own issues of distraction, and of a taking away of one’s Self from the present, the notion that here and now is the only time and place that exists.

A poem of mine I came across the other day while looking for something else says it all quite nicely. This poem is called Transcendental Injunctions, and it’s a rap on presence, about being here, and being now.

The central action describes how my senses can take me away from that here and now: I describe my habit of smelling my Bhagavad Gita (yes, as in putting my nose into the pages of the little book and inhaling the aroma of those pages) and how that takes me back to the shores of the River Ganges; another place, another time.

Anyway, allow me to share the final verse, which speaks of one such occasion:

Then, there is a voice:
I hear it with the ear of my heart:
There is no place to go.
What you seek is within.
There’s nothing to find:
God’s kingdom is within.

I suppose there is nothing left to say. I am here, and it is now

Peace to you from me

Karma Yoga & Contemplative Living: Creating Good Vibrations

Greetings friends

Not so long ago I read The Glass Bead Game by Herman Hesse. And I have to say it’s what I like to call a ‘real book’: written beautifully with an interesting and deeply engrossing story, full of detail, symbolism, thought-provoking ideas, and at the end of the day just plain and simply a delight to spend time with.

I won’t go into what the book is about here, but for the sake of this post, I will just tell you that it is about a mythical European province populated by an elite group of scholars of all sorts who have as their main cultural, social, and even political focus, the game of the book’s title.

Anyway, what I want to talk about here today is something said by the book’s main character, who in the course of the story becomes the master of the game and therefore a hugely influential figure.

This character is having a conversation with a friend. And he’s talking about the way this elite group conducts itself in the world. How it helps shape the country and history. He says to his friend:

We do not intend to flee from the vita activa (the active life) to the vita contemplativa (the contemplative life), nor vice versa, but to keep moving forward while alternating between the two, being at home in both, partaking of both.

Now, what struck me about this quote is that only a couple of days before I’d read a verse in the Bhagavad Gita that I felt said almost exactly the same thing. Krishna says to the warrior Arjuna:

Contemplative life and Karma Yoga are one and the same and takes one to the same destination. One who perceives this sees things as they are.

Bhagavad Gita Ch 5 Verse 5

Karma Yoga is usually defined as taking action without desiring reward for oneself or being attached to the fruits of the action. It is very much the taking of selfless action that is for the benefit or others. However, because as living beings in the world, we are always taking action and actually can’t not be acting, Karma Yoga is also described as being simply the yoga of action.

The Contemplative Life is most often ascribed to monks and nuns, and others living a life of deep thought, study, meditation and prayer. But any of us can lead a contemplative life because such a life is about being mindful, it’s about considering the consequences of our actions.

Such a life is lived slowly and thoughtfully and would be called ‘spiritual’ by some people. We could also call it an examined life. It is about cultivating an inner life, a life of mindfulness in all aspects of our lives.

And living in a contemplative manner helps create more peaceful communities; people living in this way project a calm that can have profound impacts on others. Such people help to set up what some us like to think of as good vibrations

Of course it’s one thing to talk about the Contemplative Life versus the active life in a novel and in an ancient book of scripture. It’s a whole other thing to be trying to figure out what sort of life we should be living in the world here and now, with the urgency of climate change, wars, despotic leaders, increasing poverty and the rest. Or is it?

Is it better for us to take action by protesting, joining activist groups, writing letters? Or is better that we live apart in some way, spending time contemplating, meditating, ‘praying’?

To me it seems there’s a real struggle going on right now between these two points of view. There are those who will tell us that it is too late for ‘thoughts and prayers’, and then there are those who say, we can’t achieve world peace (in its many facets), until we have attained inner peace on an individual level, and that the only way to reach that state is to meditate, live a contemplative life, and slow down.

Obviously, and you already knew I was going to say this, the two are not mutually exclusive; both approaches are required and serve their own purposes. There is no dilemma; there is no conflict. And above all, neither approach is superior to the other.

Many of us are suited to an active life; some of us less so. Some of us are suited to silence and to quiet reflection and study, some of us aren’t. And oftentimes if we try to act contrary to our true natures, then we have great difficulty in achieving anything. And we don’t help anyone when that happens.

Karma Yoga or the Contemplative life. An active life or a life of silence and contemplation. Only you are able to know which is for you. Of course there’s always a crossover to some degree or other. Being fully active and engaged in the world, doesn’t stop one from spending time in a contemplation, and perusing one’s life mindfully.

Equally, leading a totally or partially contemplative life doesn’t mean you aren’t taking action in the world. Obviously you are. For me, the contemplative life is a way to find some personal peace, to create those good vibrations I mentioned, and it allows me to connect with others of like mind, who are working for the highest good. Those living in the invisible community I think I’ve mentioned some other time.

Balance. The key is to find the balance that expresses you and your nature best. So, take some action right now and begin contemplating!

Food & Drink of the Gods

Namaste and Welcome friends

An idea that’s kept its hold on me for a while now concerns Black Tea and Dry Toast. It’s a part of my almost daily diet, and I’ve wanted to write about it. Anyway, here’s the note I first jotted down when the idea first came:

Black Tea and Dry Toast – In Reality is what we might call the food and drink of the Gods, of liberation, especially when I remember to offer it to Brahman and it becomes Prasada: simple, appetising, comforting, nourishing.
         What else?

Yes, sounds kind of weird, writing about such an apparently mundane subject. But, really, I  can say it definitely is for me the food and drink of the Gods. And as such, it moves beyond the little r reality of worldly food, of mundane considerations. It takes on the big R of Transcendental Reality.

Simple, plain food and drink. Pared down from all the extras and the padding, all the ‘additives’ we generally ply ourselves with. In a real sense this simplicity is in keeping with the uncluttered, minimal life I am called to live.

And everyone knows how comforting tea and toast is, how welcome it is pretty much any time of the day or night. Nourishing, too, for the spirit and the mind.

Actually for the body also. At least it is for me as a person who used to eat way too many biscuits, and take jam (thickly) on my toast. As I say, simple with no additives.

All of this equals in my view liberation. Freedom. Freedom at least sometimes, from harmful substances; Liberation from complicated preparations and the stresses and tedium that comes with it.

Black Tea and Dry Toast represents a snack (sometimes even a small meal) that at least for a short time can liberate us from stresses and tiredness. At other times, it gives us that freedom that comes from indulging in simple pleasures.

The food and drink of the Gods is not a complicated, invented and dressed up thing. It is plain, simple, comforting, nourishing.

And yummy.

PS Okay. That photo stuck in the middle up there isn’t quite in keeping with the topic is it? Alright, I admit it: Sometimes I really indulge myself and add banana to my toast. And yes, sometimes apples and oranges too

Be Present in the Presence

Greetings and welcome

I write quite a lot about presence. I think a lot about presence, about being present, and all kinds of related ‘being in the moment’ kinds of musings.

Of course words like presence and present can have multiple meanings can’t they? About this time last year I read s book called Consider the Ravens. It’s about the history as well as the recent revival of interest in hermits and ways of living the hermit life.

If you are even remotely interested in living more in solitude, or living a simpler and more sustainable, life, or being more spiritually focused, then I can’t recommend this book highly enough.

There’s a paragraph from that book I’d like to share with you. It both describes some characteristics found in hermits and their way of life, as well as introducing us to a lovely phrase concerning the concept of presence.

Are hermits escapist? Yes. Is running away a bad thing? Like most choices it’s value is determined by its purpose. There are men and women who are selfishly seeking a sanctuary untouched by human pain. But there are others who deliberately choose to be powerless [in the eyes of the world], to live simply, and to use no more than their fare share of the world’s resources. They elect to be unknown, hidden, forgotten. And the goal? To become transparent to the Divine, or as [one hermit] succinctly phrased it: ‘to be always present to the Presence’.

Paul & Karen Fredette Consider the Ravens


I like that phrase; it’s what I’m aiming at. Actually, no. That’s not right: you can’t aim at being present, you can’t have presence as a goal to be attained in the future. I think that’s called an oxymoron. Anyway, all you can do is be; be present in the presence.

And it doesn’t matter what you call it: Presence; Truth; Reality; God; the Universe; the Cosmic Reality. They’re only names for that unnameable essence that we’d all agree can be called the Love that is in reality everything.

It’s that essence beyond all names – and forms. It’s what we sense is behind, above, and within all that exists in the world.

And, like a lot of people, I want to withdraw from that world of materialism. From the greed, the corruption, the cruelty and wilful ignorance, the … well, you get the point. My sense, and it is echoed in the quoted paragraph, is that presence is to be found in silence, and in solitude.

Of course it’s not necessary to be a hermit to be present – or in order to be present in the Presence. After all, few people believe they can go find a cave somewhere and withdraw totally from the world. (maybe it’s the belief that’s the problem?)

So, what to do? A wise person once gave a brilliant answer to that question and I have it on a card to remind me:

Yes. Be present and the direction will present itself.

Peace to you.

Awen: Bring On the Creative Spirit

Hello friends

My last post spoke a little about my study of the Bhagavad Gita, and it prompted me to share a little more with you about the actual book itself. Well, not the book as such; more like some of the words I’ve written on the title page:

I stand always on sacred ground and beneath sacred skies.
Awen          Awen          Awen
You are always with [a] devotee: Your Self


Every time I open that little book I see and read those three lines. They are all sacred to me with great personal meaning. Four distinct ideas, from four sources. In a sense reading them is a kind of preparation for my actual reading of the Gita.

While all those words are special to me, today what seemed to call out to be heard, was Awen.  Or I should say, the three repetitions of the word.

Awen has been special to me ever since a friend told me about it many years ago. It’s a Welsh word, basically defined as poetic – or creative – inspiration. It is sometimes personified as the Muses that inspires artists generally.

Wikipedia says, Awen comes from Indo-European root uel, meaning ‘to blow’. Awel the Welsh word for breeze shares this root. Awen is also ‘flowing spirit’, as in the flow of energy that is the essence of life. Reading this made me think of Bob Dylan:

The answer my friend
is blowing in the wind

Bob Dylan Blowing in the Wind

The symbol for Awen is beautiful. Three rays of light that emanate from three points of light. There are many interpretations for the three rays and the three points, but the ones I like have them symbolizing Earth, Sea, and Air; body, mind, and spirit; love, wisdom, and truth.

I like the idea that the three points are the actual foundation of Awen itself: the understanding of truth, the love of truth, and the maintaining of truth.

Enough with the explanations and definitions. The repetition of Awen three times is a kind of chant or prayer. As such, it’s an invocation of Awen, the divine creative energy – or the muse.

So there you have it: a little more about my special little book. Don’t worry, I’ll try not to make a habit of this. I guess it’s what happens when something is in your consciousness, and you just never know when Awen will reach out and bless you.

Thank you

Peace

An Idea From a Not So Random Corner of the Universe

Namaste and Greetings friends

Remember in my last post I mentioned that I like to ‘Let the noble thoughts come to me from all corners of the universe’? Well I’ve been exploring, investigating, studying, in one of those corners for a few years now.

In 2016, in India, I gifted myself a small copy of the Bhagavad Gita. It’s a little red book, my Gita; no commentaries, just a plain, simple, and easy to understand translation of the 5000-year-old text known as the ‘Song of God’

Of course there are many sources of divine wisdom. No. That’s not right. Start again. Everything is a source of divine wisdom, of the word of God, universal knowledge, Truth, the Dharma. We can call it what we like.

But every living thing – human and non-human – every experience we have, and the entirety of the material and non-matieral creation, is divine wisdom in action.

Speaking for myself, I don’t always remember or realise (as in believe, trust, know) this never-ending, inexhaustible supply of wisdom. So I have to make use of some physical forms that help me narrow my focus, to centre my attention. It happens that the Bhagavad Gita is for me, one of those physical forms.

So today I want to talk about a verse from the Gita that really leapt out at me when I opened the book at random yesterday.
That verse comes from a chapter titled Self Knowledge and Enlightenment. It’s where Krishna – representing our Higher Self, Divine Wisdom; the real us, the real me – is telling Arjuna – the ego self, or little self, the us that thinks ‘this is me’, ‘puny, small, little me, just a sack of bones’ – all the various attributes and qualities of the Higher Self, the real us.

In other words, our Higher Self is helping our lower self to realise what we really are, trying to get us to see that there is a lot more to us than meets the (physical) eye.

Anyway, to the verse:

Of the strong, I am strength devoid of desire and passion, and I am love that is virtuous.

Bhagavad Gita Ch 7 verse 11

My sense is that the entire Bhagavad Gita is designed to help rid us of our attachments to the dualities of the world. Of course material life is obviously a state of dualities: we like good things, don’t like bad things; sometimes we’re happy, sometimes full of sorrow; we might at one time have many material possessions, then at another have nothing. You know where I’m going here; after all you dwell in the same world as I do!

Naturally none of us want bad things to happen, so we try to develop ways to be strong, to gather strength so we can face the bad stuff when it (inevitably) happens. And there’s nothing wrong with being strong, nothing amiss about having strength, but here Krishna (Higher Self) says that we don’t need to desire to get strength: we already are strength. Remember: Krishna is our Higher Self, so if Krishna is strength then that means we all are.

The desire and passion he talks about is really our attachment to outcomes, to expectations, to labelling things good or bad, or this or that, or wanting to feel this emotion but not that one. In other words, we are strength without any of these attachments;

So, when those inevitable ‘bad things’ happen, we already have the ability to flow with them, to cope with them, without judgements, without fear. Equally, when the inevitable ‘good things’ happen, we can rejoice, but we are strength, so there’s no need to hang onto them, wishing them to keep on happening, or being fearful of them changing.

You know there is an expression I used to loathe: It’s all good. It’s one of those non-commital, bland platitudes that really doesn’t mean anything. Well I don’t hate it quite as much as I used to but I still have trouble with it. Maybe we can take it a bit further?

Perhaps we could say instead: It all is. No good or bad; no joy or sorrow; no dualities of any kind. Sounds like heaven doesn’t it?

Well, while we’re in physical bodies here on Earth (and who can say what kind of bodies if any we’ll get to inhabit in the future), then the most that can ever happen is a glimpse – or maybe a few glimpses – of isness. Moments when we actually stop labelling, stop seeing dualities, and really and truly can know, it all is. For real.

And the love bit? Well, here we have Krishna (our Higher Self) saying he is love. He means us. He’s actually telling us that we are love. And virtuous love at that. Mind you, is there any other kind?

Peace

Seeking Justice: Commitments

This morning I was just sitting, or at least trying to just sit. You know, being quiet, relaxing the mind. All that kind of thing. And of course, an idea sprung into that not so cooperative mind, so I grabbed my notebook. Just as I went to put this latest brainwave on paper I noticed a very extraordinary note I must have made I don’t know when:

I’ve just looked it up: It’s a slight paraphrase of a verse from the Old Testament, from the prophet Micah. Where I read it, I can’t say (the note is at least several weeks old). But to quote another little note from some unknown source, I always like to:

Let the noble thoughts come to me from all corners of the universe.

unknown

I’m just like everyone else, always wanting the easy solutions and you can tell that can’t you? ‘How to live the good life? Simple!’. I mean really; hardly humble in my approach in that note was I? Well, let’s talk about what Micah says, not my own lack of humility.

Seek justice; practise kindness; and walk humbly with [your] God.

There are numerous versions online of this verse (Micah, 6:8), so I will leave it to you to check those out for yourself. I’ve added the word your because all those versions do say ‘your God’. But even in this paraphrase it’s easy to see there is nothing at all simple about any of these injunctions.

I discovered that this verse is often invoked in times of grave injustice, or crisis. I think it goes without saying that we would be hard pressed to think of a time that was not a time of grave injustice or crisis. Certainly, we are living in one of those times of injustice and crisis.

There’s no need to or purpose served by getting into how ‘grave’ injustice is now compared to some other time; there’s no need or point to weighing up the relative severity of one crisis versus another. Injustice is injustice; a crisis is a crisis.

In other words, the present is always the time to heed the injunctions of this verse.

So, what do we do if we are to seek justice? Running the risk of sounding flippant, I would say that there are as many answers to this question as there are people to answer it. Now, you would think this would make the task impossible; too many cooks and all that. But actually it’s perfect. Why? Because it means that whoever you are, whatever your situation, you can actively seek justice.

Or, I am sorry: I should say I, me. Not you. I can actively seek justice. But, you say, you are a hermit; you live in a cave (not literally but I know what you mean); you hardly ever even talk to people in ‘real life’. Yes, all true. And I would say that the action I take is by no means at the level I know I want it to be. I’m doing nowhere enough.

Does that mean I’m leaving the cave? Going out into the world, onto the streets to join other brave souls seeking justice? Believe me, I ask myself such questions constantly. But to speak truth to you now, I will say that I know absolutely, in my heart, that my role is something different.

If anything, I need to go deeper into the cave; I need to go deeper into the inner world of my own Self. I know that in this way I will join with so many others in what I’ve come to call the Invisible Community of people all over the world living lives of contemplation and prayer. Or, speaking for me personally, trying to live a life of contemplation and prayer.

By so doing I am at least in a tiny way supporting those millions of others out there on the streets, in the aid groups, running campaigns, writing letters, helping the victims of injustice, in all kinds of miraculous, brave, and innovative ways.

So that’s my commitment to you. To deepen my prayer; to intensify my contemplation; to more fully realise my union with all living beings; and to really join with the invisible community in its efforts.

And, you ask, this blog? What’s it about then? Well, notes, musings, thoughts and reflections all aimed at reminding me of my responsibilities. And hopefully along the way, solidifying my union with you and the rest of creation, just a bit.

Peace and love

PS I haven’t forgotten ‘practise kindness’ or ‘walk humbly with your God’. Maybe another time.

Just Passing Through … or Seeking Noble Truths: A Poetical Sharing

Greetings friends

In my last post I mentioned I would share a poem with you in this one. And here it is!

Just Passing Through … or Seeking Noble Truths, is, like the previous post, concerned with passing through, how as I go through life, I am always in some sort of passing through place. Before we get to the poem, just let me fill you in on a bit of the back story.

First, I wrote the poem as I walked home to our hermitage at the time in a town called Moama on the Murray River in Australia. Now, the Murray is the biggest river in the country and the then little town of Moama sits across the river from its bigger city sized sibling: Echuca, the biggest inland port in Australia.

Anyway, I’d just crossed the river bridge and the words just started coming to me. Not exactly as you read it here, but close. I am very lucky that I had only a few minutes walk left to get home, otherwise the whole lot could have been lost to memory.

The longer back back story? Well, as the poem suggests, I’d spent a lot of time hitchhiking, in Australia and a few other places too. It’s true what it says in the first lines: I’d done a lot of trudging through a rather large number of towns unknown to me then, and only some of which are better known to me now in much later years.

Okay, that’s enough back story to last a while, so let’s just present the star of the show. I share this, as I do all my efforts, with heart.

JUST PASSING THROUGH … OR SEEKING NOBLE TRUTHS


Many have been the nights 
I’ve trudged (and less often, strode) 
past illuminated windows framing. 
families sharing sit down meals. 
Or huddled worshipfully before 
flickering and silent (to my passing by ears) 
picture boxes in corners of cosy family rooms. 

I am just one more invisible (to most), anonymous 
drifter. Just passing through 
the empty nighttime streets of one more 
anonymous town. 
Longing to enter the illumined frame. 
Longing to share one of those sit down meals. 
Longing to worship at the alter of the flickering picture box. 
Longing is loss. 

The edge of town roadside summons 
this lonesome bodhisattva begging rides. 

It’s just one more quiet and cold 
semi desert night. A high moon in a clear sky 
casts ghostly shadows through Eucalypts: 
my only company as the waiting game begins. 
Waiting to see headlights coming and going my way. 
Waiting to be rescued from this lonely edge of town roadside. 
Waiting for another ride, to another anonymous town. 
Waiting is wasteful 

Better to be here, now, on this 
edge of town roadside. A place as good 
as any. Illumined by the moon, 
the ghostly gums create the frame 
in which this bodhisattva rests. 
And worships. 

Thank you for allowing me to share these words with you. The road, as many of you will know, can be a teacher, a guru. I don’t hitch-hike anymore, but the road is still teaching me. And I am grateful.

Sometimes Happy, Sometimes Blue

Remember, this is just a passing through place

Many years ago now, a wise person I know used these words to remind me of a fact of life that, even now, I sometimes (to be honest, this should read very often) forget: we are – all of us – only passing through. For me, the words have extra resonance beyond what you might call that overarching reality of the temporary nature of our time in this world: I was, born and still am, a nomad.

Even though I very much see myself as being on a never-ending pilgrimage, I do often get anxious about should I move? should I do this? Should I do that? Existential and other kinds of angst are common to all of us I think. So, now and again it’s a good idea to hit the refresh button and click the reminder that I am always in a passing through place.

I often find myself singing (usually very quietly or in my mind) the chorus from Passing Through, a very special Leonard Cohen:

Passing through, passing through.
Sometimes happy, sometimes blue,
Glad that I ran into you.
Tell the people that you saw me passing through

Leonard Cohen – Passing Through

And that’s the refresh: It is literally true to say – both in terms of my internal life journey and where I might be geographically speaking at any given time – that I am only passing through.

Change is constant, that’s the message here. Being sometimes happy, sometimes blue are just facts of life Leonard’s song tells us. But putting the whole chorus together you can see it’s about presence. It’s about being in the ongoing present moment; the moment that just keeps on keeping on. It’s about living in and being conscious of that ongoingness, whether we’re happy or blue.

As I typed that last sentence, about states of happiness and blueness, I suddenly thought of a poem I wrote quite a while ago now. Just Passing Through. Or Seeking Noble Truths. It, too, is about presence, about the attachment to outcomes (like being happy, or not being blue) being the cause of our suffering. Of course this isn’t my idea: it’s one of the Buddha’s Four Noble Truths.

I think I would like to share that poem with you. But let’s do it next time shall we? Because, while there might be no time like the present, as we’ve just seen, the present is ongoing.

So, see you next time

Peace and love