"Furniture helps to be in presence", she said, finally looking away from the white chair that stood alongside our white dining table. It was one in a set of four chairs, that stood on the longer sides of the rectangular table. Our second story downtown apartment was meticulously color coordinated thanks to her. And so, all four chairs had a bright red cushion on them, matching the bright red sofa that stood against the perpendicular wall. The whites and reds of both were constantly bleeding into each other, as boisterous mirrored reflections in constant playful competition. At the same time, on the other side of the room, the teal cushions on the pair of wooden armchairs perfectly reflected the teal on the background of Van Gogh's "Apricot Blossom", that hung on the wall over them. Additionally, all the hues and shades of the entire room were brought into congruence into the center of the room, focused onto the white and blue carpet that lay thinly across the ochre hardwood floor. If one paid careful attention, the room was full of sensory richness that takes a moment to digest.
As I heard her words, I realized that I had been lost in thought. The act of being "lost in thought" is familiar to us all, as it still remains a part of the default state of the ego and our identity of self. Our thoughts determine our idea of who we are. This sense of self is also intricately rooted to the perception of time. As such, our pasts remain with us in our minds, as boundaries of our sense of self, providing us with an apparent solidity for the concept of "I am...". As does our idea of the future, which defines the aspirational limits of the selves that we want to be, feeding into the sense of "I want...". In this way, getting "lost in thought" is a game played by our egoic selves, that we all are mostly condemned to play along. Most of us do so obsessively, until all our sense of self is derived solely from our history, and the visions of our selves in the future. And those of us who overdo it, can often find ourselves in the stranger realms of the mind, that could become characterized as "abnormal", "paranoid", "pathological" or "insane".
Meanwhile, the other side of the coin, the opposite of being lost in thought is "being in presence". Over the years, I have found that all spiritual paths are leading to the same place. Whether through meditation, yoga, psychological counseling, Lalon's music, artistic practice, psychedelic voyaging, or even looking into the depths of the existing religious traditions (leaving aside the stunted rulebooks and institutions surrounding it), all teachings seem to point towards the practice of "presence". Towards the truth that all there is, is the simplicity of "being", in the moment, the reality as it is. In that sense, the spiritual search not only means looking for the divine, but first and foremost means finding oneself. It involves the cultivation of awareness to the truth of reality.Training the mind to exist above thought (and therefore outside of time), fully perceptive of the reality of the "now". As such, truth is an experience, not an intellectual pursuit. At the level of intellect, the most we can touch is the idea of truth (which I realize with some sadness, is what I am doing now). Because, that which is the absolute truth, can never be wholly conveyed or "taught" in its essence. Teachers can guide one through the path, but their words can only point towards it. They can never be it. And so, any attempt at articulation of the truth can only be a pale shadow of its true meaning and significance.
I came back to the reality of the moment, of sitting in our living room with her. As she finished saying the words, she was looking at me, maybe checking me for my state of presence. Her words acted as a marker, to come back to the awareness of the moment, away from the egoic thought-stream I was entangled in. And in that moment, as I found the space within my own mind, I also found myself repeating her words, and immediately noticed that I agreed with her. Furniture can indeed help with being in presence, In fact, any inanimate object can help towards it in the same way. Because objects exist without any sense of time or self, and in fact can only exist as they do in the moment. They are now, as they always are. In that sense, their "being-ness" or their "is-ness" is very potent, and can be used as a pointer, a reminder of the "is-ness" of all reality as a whole. Furthermore, their beauty can strengthen the appreciation of their "is-ness" as well. And it was then that I also realized with a gasp of awe and gratitude, that I had the fortune of living in a beautiful home.
"What is your relationship with the world of objects, the countless things that surround you and that you handle everyday? The chair you sit on, the pen, the car, the cup? Are they to you merely a means to an end, or do you occasionally acknowledge their existence, their being, no matter how briefly, by noticing them and giving them your attention?" - Eckhart Tolle
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| Photo from "Cries and Whispers", Ingmar Bergman |
As I heard her words, I realized that I had been lost in thought. The act of being "lost in thought" is familiar to us all, as it still remains a part of the default state of the ego and our identity of self. Our thoughts determine our idea of who we are. This sense of self is also intricately rooted to the perception of time. As such, our pasts remain with us in our minds, as boundaries of our sense of self, providing us with an apparent solidity for the concept of "I am...". As does our idea of the future, which defines the aspirational limits of the selves that we want to be, feeding into the sense of "I want...". In this way, getting "lost in thought" is a game played by our egoic selves, that we all are mostly condemned to play along. Most of us do so obsessively, until all our sense of self is derived solely from our history, and the visions of our selves in the future. And those of us who overdo it, can often find ourselves in the stranger realms of the mind, that could become characterized as "abnormal", "paranoid", "pathological" or "insane".
Meanwhile, the other side of the coin, the opposite of being lost in thought is "being in presence". Over the years, I have found that all spiritual paths are leading to the same place. Whether through meditation, yoga, psychological counseling, Lalon's music, artistic practice, psychedelic voyaging, or even looking into the depths of the existing religious traditions (leaving aside the stunted rulebooks and institutions surrounding it), all teachings seem to point towards the practice of "presence". Towards the truth that all there is, is the simplicity of "being", in the moment, the reality as it is. In that sense, the spiritual search not only means looking for the divine, but first and foremost means finding oneself. It involves the cultivation of awareness to the truth of reality.Training the mind to exist above thought (and therefore outside of time), fully perceptive of the reality of the "now". As such, truth is an experience, not an intellectual pursuit. At the level of intellect, the most we can touch is the idea of truth (which I realize with some sadness, is what I am doing now). Because, that which is the absolute truth, can never be wholly conveyed or "taught" in its essence. Teachers can guide one through the path, but their words can only point towards it. They can never be it. And so, any attempt at articulation of the truth can only be a pale shadow of its true meaning and significance.
I came back to the reality of the moment, of sitting in our living room with her. As she finished saying the words, she was looking at me, maybe checking me for my state of presence. Her words acted as a marker, to come back to the awareness of the moment, away from the egoic thought-stream I was entangled in. And in that moment, as I found the space within my own mind, I also found myself repeating her words, and immediately noticed that I agreed with her. Furniture can indeed help with being in presence, In fact, any inanimate object can help towards it in the same way. Because objects exist without any sense of time or self, and in fact can only exist as they do in the moment. They are now, as they always are. In that sense, their "being-ness" or their "is-ness" is very potent, and can be used as a pointer, a reminder of the "is-ness" of all reality as a whole. Furthermore, their beauty can strengthen the appreciation of their "is-ness" as well. And it was then that I also realized with a gasp of awe and gratitude, that I had the fortune of living in a beautiful home.
"What is your relationship with the world of objects, the countless things that surround you and that you handle everyday? The chair you sit on, the pen, the car, the cup? Are they to you merely a means to an end, or do you occasionally acknowledge their existence, their being, no matter how briefly, by noticing them and giving them your attention?" - Eckhart Tolle
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