PranaBeing blog: Two Things to Trust

Life can be a dizzying affair. Sometimes I have to really boil things down for myself.

There are two things I can always trust:

  1. This moment is exactly the way it is, right now.

  2. This moment is bound to change.

When I get disoriented, I can bring my mind back to these points. The first point is a way of getting my bearings: “Here I am. Ah, yes. Everything is exactly as it is. How could it be any other way?”

This is relieving and calming. Even if the moment is showing up in a way I don’t like (or if I’m showing up in the moment in a way I don’t like), I can still completely rely on the fact that everything is as it is. And, it will change. If I focus for even a few moments, I can observe and experience that change for myself.

The second point is a way of tempering my mind. Knowing that “this too shall pass” helps me stabilize the mental pendulum. There’s no point in freaking out too badly, because if I don’t want what is happening now, it will soon change. If I really like what’s happening now and I’m afraid of the change, I can remind myself to chill out by enjoying this moment fully and surrendering to the knowledge that it’s all going to keep changing. This helps me relax back into the flow of life.

If I’m resisting change, I can focus on what’s here, now. And if I’m resisting what’s here now, I can focus on change. Sweet, right?

Yes, there’s a lot going on. And, life is also simple.

It is as it is.

It is changing.

I highly recommend regular practice of observing these two truths. It’s a way that I engage with life to reduce struggle and inhabit presence. It has guided me through the most difficult and uncomfortable moments of my life, and opens my heart to appreciate the beauty of this passing moment.

What is something that you can absolutely, always trust?

PranaBeing blog: Meditation

There is no one else.

There is nothing else.

There is not even me.

Alone is impossible:

it’s all one no-thing-ness.

Yet

here I am,

sensing a shift,

from me to nothingness.

Silence,

as if a rain drop

were suddenly to know itself

as water and cloud.

No;

even beyond the form of all

I emerge,

silent.

Nothing to say.

Nothing to do.

I notice

I am once again

alone.