This Moment

This morning I continue reading “Stoep Zen” by Antony Osler.  A beautiful book about Zen life in South Africa. A book filled with phrases and passages that evoke childhood memories and fill me with laughter.  A book filled with short essays, haiku-like poems and photographs that invite me to live my life as simply and as profoundly as I can. A book that invites each reader to be fully present to whoever or whatever is before them. A call to find the heart of each moment. 

When Zen master Su Bong came one year for his retreat he had his usual bag of presents for Tongo and his family. Tongo was digging out thistles near the earth dam. Su Bong gave him the gifts. Tongo thanked him, picked up his spade and started digging again. Su Bong was so impressed. ‘That’s the way to live your life,’ he said that night. ‘You don’t need monk’s robes, just say thank you and get on with your work.’

As I reach the last few pages of the book, the tumble drier sounds its song. Whereas normally I might be tempted to “just quickly finish the last few pages”, I put down the book and go to the tumble drier.  I empty it, fold his socks and place them in the drawer.

As I do so, I fully realize that this is what I am doing. 

This might sound simple. It is and it is not. It is mundane and it is profound.

After closing the drawer, I decide to tweet.  

I fold his socks, then place them in the drawer. #thismoment

— Linda Hollier (@lindahollier) May 7, 2013

Continuing the musings I have been engaging in lately on the usage of Twitter to promote mindfulness, I am struck once again by the incredible potential it has to aid one in becoming aware of what is happening right now.  Often when I watch and note to myself what I am experiencing it sounds like a tweet!  

I return to my book, finish it, and then decide to write this blog.  

In preparation, I pick up my ipad, read many of the tweets with the hashtag #thismoment and then google the concept too.  

I discover an article from two days ago, in which the CEO of Twitter, Dick Costolo, urges graduates to “Be In This Moment”.

Ironically, Costolo didn’t learn this lesson while at Twitter, a platform which in many ways embodies the very philosophy of “being in this moment.” He learned it as an improvisational comedy student in Chicago before, as Costolo puts it, “the internet happened.”

Listening to the video incorporated into the article, I am aware of synchronicity, and then realize it is always there but we do not always see it. 

Making my way to my laptop, my mind begins to wander and I note its wanderings. 

I recall the the piece I once wrote entitled, “The Dalai Lama and Synchronicity” after I saw him in The Hague. I think about impermanence and then recall that I noticed upon my return to Dubai last week that the old "Hard Rock Cafe" is no longer standing. That blog must be about a year old.

Not wanting to hold onto these wanderings too long, I note them, let them go, and then sit down to type.

The mind throws in one last attempt - Remember the blog “Booma Dollies and Onions”; you wrote this piece about watching the mind! Seated at my laptop by now, I look it up, but its message very quickly brings me back to this moment. 

And so I write this blog and you read it. Are we separate? Are we different? Are we one? Are we the same?

Or is there a point where we can go beyond labels and opinions? A point where we can see differences but move past them? That is the point when the wonders of life make themselves known without a need for understanding. 

Right now, this moment, the words appear on my screen as my fingers tap out the letters.  Your eyes move across the page as you read.

I turn to glance out the window

The Burj Khalifa stands tall

The sun is shining.

Grounded Flight

It is approaching Spring in South Africa and in Pretoria buds and blossoms are beginning to appear here and there.  The general impression when looking at the landscape, however, is still one of dryness. 

When we lived in Germany and returned to South Africa for a visit, the first thing our children commented on at the time was the soil. They noticed that in their opinion South African soil is red while German soil is brown! 

Reminded of that while driving through to Pretoria recently, I wondered how many of us even notice the color of the soil in the area we live. Habits blend us into our surroundings. Surroundings reinforce habits. Perspectives become limited unless consciously challenged. Horizons are narrow unless broadened by awareness.

Returning home to a town once lived in, things never noticed before, suddenly glare at one.   Nothing has changed except the viewer who has gained distance not only physically, but emotionally as well.

Distance lends enchantment to the view, the saying goes but that I feel is only one side of the story.  Distance also enables one to see perspectives not visible from within a particular environment.

In the past, such distance could only be gained by physically moving away.  This was the privilege of a minority and so cultural habits and beliefs were reinforced from one generation to the next.

Today modern travel but more especially technology, has blasted this all apart.  People of different cultural backgrounds can meet online, beliefs are suddenly challenged, new ways of doing things become apparent. 

If I so wish, I can look at pictures of soil in Germany or soil in South Africa, or soil in wherever, read about it or even chat to personages knowledgeable in that field.  

The challenge, however, is two-fold. Perspectives need to be broadened, but at the same time we need to be grounded.

We need to feel the soil beneath our feet, if not barefoot, then through mindful awareness of the sensation of connecting with the ground as we walk. We need to be aware of where we are at and where we are coming from, especially when online where the temptation could be to escape.

As we realize that the other is not so other as always imagined - similarities outweigh our differences; we all want to be happy; we all wish to be freed from suffering; soil may vary but it is still soil - we open ourselves to new dimensions of being. 

here2here offers such dimensions. We meet here, are here together, but at the same time are each somewhere else. 

In such a “place”, in such a “space”, perspectives can only broaden. More importantly, however, mutual acceptance and hospitality allow the collective, meeting here2here, to be grounded in a dimension invisible to the physical eye, sometimes visible to the eye of contemplation, but definitely visible to the eye of Spirit. 

Collective consciousness, shared participation, shared responsibility and shared innovation are soils rich in potential, waiting to be stepped into, holding out gifts of creativity in ways unimagined before.

Let's feel the soil beneath our feet as we take off!

Meeting in the gap

Yesterday, in South Africa, making my way to my boarding gate for my flight back to Dubai, I passed a little shop selling Ndebele art.

Today, 24hrs later, I had lunch in an Iranian restaurant.

 

These photos were taken within one day of each other and between them was a gap - the gap of place, the gap of time, the gap of culture.

Yet now you see them both, brought together by my sharing them with you in this here2here space where we meet. 

This space is in itself a gap between us and yet it is a gap not void of content. On the contrary, it is the space of untapped potential, the space of creativity, the meeting place of various personalities, cultures and worldviews, made possible by technology.

It is a reminder of the many gaps we encounter on a daily basis.

The beauty of communication can only be appreciated by acknowledging pauses between words, whether they be spoken or written. Music is filled with pauses between notes, gaps between movements.

There is the transition point between ending one task and beginning another, the time of waiting for a new phase in one’s life to begin, or even the time spent waiting for the lights to change while on the road. 

These gaps are not wasted spaces or wasted time. They are filled with potential when we become mindfully aware of them. 

There is always a moment between an experience and our response to it. The simple act of pausing and finding this gap is proving to have many benefits on many levels of being.

As we begin to find these gaps, inner rhythms can be acknowledged, and when necessary, alignments made with the universal rhythms present all around us. These universal rhythms have always been there, but it is as if we are only now, not only as individuals but also as a collective, beginning to hear them.  

One place these universal rhythms are to be found is in the gaps between cultures. These gaps were once thought of in a negative way, as if they were points of separation and divide. On closer inspection they are a meeting place to discover similarity, interconnectedness, unity and creativity.

Meet you in the gap!