January 4th, 2020

This moment

“When you realize that eternity is right here now, that it is within your possibility to experience the eternity of your own truth and being, then you grasp the following: That which you are was never born and will never die. . . . (90)”
― Joseph Campbell, Thou Art That: Transforming Religious Metaphor

It's so trite: the Now is all you have.

And this isn't me trying to joust with Eckhart Tolle and all other spiritual gurus of a similar ilk

It's asking you, again, to consider your direct experience of life.

What's happening right now?

(Please avoid reciting anything you've read or heard and go to your direct experience.)

You might want to sit for a brief moment to ponder the question.

You're here, right?

Or at least there's a sense of being here. 

Cutting right to the chase, though, the moment your thoughts inveigle their way into your psyche they take you away from the present moment; and that's why I invite those people who I work with (qua coach — argh, I hate that label but it's the one people seem most comfortable with) to ask this question:

"What is there when there is no thinking?"

It's not me asking them to stop thinking — that's impossible — but merely to consider what is there when there is no thinking.

And the answer?

A happening of this moment which is bereft of any word or aphorism to describe precisely what is in play.

You could say: a moving, dancing, energetic expression.

Then again you might say: there is just this.

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I'm so reliant on Google:

1. My phone.
2. My photos (I do have a Flickr account but don't use it properly).
3. Google Keep in place of Evernote.
4. Gmail — what else?
5. Music — I don't have a paid subscription but it syncs with all my MP3 downloads.
6. Chrome.
7. Books — not many but a few.
8. Docs — I help my kids with their College and University work; I mostly work in Word.
9. Calendar.
10. And, of course, all the data I've shared.

My biggest concern, apart from data protection, is making sure that my family can access things when I'm no longer here. I think they all know my password/s, but I need to make sure (just in case!) that they can access things. 

Ditto so many other platforms that I maintain.



Photo by Lauren Edvalson on Unsplash

I've started it again

"Once you have given up the ghost, everything follows with dead certainty, even in the midst of chaos. From the beginning it was never anything but chaos: it was a fluid which enveloped me, which I breathed in through the gills. In the substrata, where the moon shone steady and opaque, it was smooth and fecundating; above it was a jangle and a discord. In everything I quickly saw the opposite, the contradiction, and between the real and the unreal the irony, the paradox. I was my own worst enemy. There was nothing I wished to do which I could just as well not do. Even as a child, when I lacked for nothing, I wanted to die: I wanted to surrender because I saw no sense in struggling. I felt that nothing would be proved, substantiated, added or subtracted by continuing an existence which I had not asked for. Everybody around me was a failure, or if not a failure, ridiculous. Especially the successful ones. The successful ones bored me to tears. I was sympathetic to a fault, but it was not sympathy that made me so. It was a purely negative quality, a weakness which blossomed at the mere sight of human misery. I never helped any one expecting that it would do any good; I helped because I was helpless to do otherwise. To want to change the condition of affairs seemed futile to me; nothing would be altered, I was convinced, except by a change of heart, and who could change the hearts of men? Now and then a friend was converted; it was something to make me puke. I had no more need of God than He had of me, and if there were one, I often said to myself, I would meet Him calmly and spit in His face." — Henry Miller, Tropic of Capricorn (Penguin Modern Classics) (p. 1). Penguin Books Ltd. Kindle Edition. 

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My tweets


Just this:

“We have allowed ourselves very little space for not-knowing. Very seldom do we have the wisdom not-to-know, to lay the mind open to deeper understanding. When confusion occurs in the mind, we identify with it and say we are confused…

Confusion arises because we fight against our not-knowing, which experiences each moment afresh without preconceptions or expectations.” 

Stephen Levine

Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash

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