We often spend our time thinking about future plans, hopes and fears; or past events, mishaps, and triumphs. Even when the day comes we had planned for, such as Easter day as I write this, we are still in the momentum of this state… we continue to plan, hope or fear for what might come next. This may be alright and helpful in some portion, but we should probably balance it with other states of being, at least. To bring in the past, we might share previous events, mishaps, and triumphs with our loved ones on such a holiday. The most moving ones to share might be those that rest in our hearts at the moment… which brings us to our third and final state of being, in the present.
Just tonight, after reading the Meditation chapter of Samael Aun Weor’s The Great Rebellion, my father and I developed a game to speak only of things in the present. In the initial spark of development, one of us began speaking in the present, observing in realtime the items in the soup we were sharing. The other named the ingredients and explained he had observed them prior to consumption. While impressive, we decided this should count as a loss in the game as the conversation was taken away from the present moment and deep into the past five minutes ago. What significance do the contents of the soup have three hundred seconds ago, when it was a completely different temperature, and which is now being digested by a plethora of acids and microorganisms completely out of our observation realm? The soup is merely a construct of our imagination, and can no longer be observed nor appreciated by even a single one of our five senses: not sight, smell, taste, touch, nor sound. Only the soup observed now can be fully appreciated.
So, as we dove into the game, we began describing our thoughts and movements, as we performed menial tasks such as walking into the conservatory, observing the slate floor and taking a seat. We sounded like robots, some sort of sloth-like AI taking our first steps in the 3D world. Perhaps, as ridiculous as we sounded speaking our thoughts and actions in the moment, is as ridiculous as it is that we spend the majority our time speaking and thinking outside of this moment. Why is it that we are so prolific when it comes to describing past events, or future possibilities, but struggle to describe what we’re experiencing right now in this present moment.
It must be then that our mind sleeps, imagining and dreaming of such a great number of things that are not here, and perhaps not even there. When we start to observe the present, we start to awaken to this present moment, which compared to our daydream state, is more real, tangible, alive, and sensible, in quite the literal sense. This is not to say we should always be in this present-awakened state (after all, imagination has its merits), but it might behoove us to spend just a bit more time in it. And as I think now, what better time to do so than on the day Jesus Christ is risen, the day of Easter.
I invite you to take a look around you and observe the sights of your present moment. If time allows, work through your other senses
to the sounds, smells, feelings, and tastes. Know that in your imagination and thoughts you’ll never live the sensory experience, pleasant or not, available right here and now.
photo and art by Steve Kuzma
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