You're Invited

BBC Radio 2 has this wonderful segment in the morning called "Pause for Thought".

It was that very segment that helped me come up with my blog title, the quote by Oscar Wilde. On a day when I was wondering what the heck I was doing with my life and why I bothered to continue to get out of bed, one of the "Pause For Thought"s was by a woman religious leader who had struggled to pull herself up out of the depression caused by the death of her father... at least I think that was what caused her sadness-- regardless, the message stayed with me.



So today, rather than offer up my incoherent ramblings, I will share the thought for last Friday: (all quoted from the BBC website)

Pause for Thought From Andy Puddicombe, Meditation expert and former Buddhist monk.
"Have you ever had one of those moments when you’re driving along and you suddenly catch yourself, you’ve been driving on auto-pilot for the last few miles? There’s that split second moment of being acutely aware of everything around you - followed quickly by a cold sweat and a sigh of relief.
As scary as it sounds, I think we’ve probably all done this at some time or another. And in many ways it’s a reflection of how we live our lives - on auto-pilot.

I was reminded of this the other day when a client came to see me at the clinic. He said he was feeling increasingly disconnected from the world around him, increasingly caught up in thoughts about work.

So I gave him an exercise to do, which involved him going for a short walk whilst applying a particular meditation technique. Ten minutes later he came back from the walk and said:
'I’ve lived just round the corner from here for 15 years, and I walk down this same street nearly every single day. But that’s the first time I’ve ever actually seen the street. It’s the first time I’ve noticed the colour of the houses, the smell of the flowers and the sounds of the birds'. But it’s what he said next that really struck me. He said 'Where have I been all my life?'

And I wonder just how many of us live our lives in this way; swept away by memories of the past, plans for the future. So preoccupied with thinking that we’re completely unaware of what’s actually taking place right now - oblivious to life unfolding around us.

I guess the present moment just feels so ordinary that we take it for granted; we forget to turn up for it. And yet it’s so extraordinary, a unique moment of time, untainted by concept, judgment or belief. Its life, laid bare, exactly as it is. And quite unlike anything else in life, we don’t need to go anywhere to get it, or do anything to create it. It’s right here, just waiting to be discovered. It’s in the eating of a sandwich, the drinking of a cup of tea, the washing of the dishes, ordinary, everyday activities.

Life’s short enough as it is. Shouldn’t we at least turn up for the event?"