An example of observing thoughts and how solidly they establish my contextual world, unless I take the time to look into and discover HOW they are doing this, is a current situation of mine. Due to the economic times I’m trying, like many others, to come out of retirement and find work. The process of searching for employment, preparing resumes, and interviewing, can be stressful. The thoughts about what to do, and how to do it, continue to cycle, pick up anxiety and worry, and create a kind of tightly focused internal maelstrom. When I step back, knowing these are worrisome thoughts and not hard facts (things), they lose some of their wind and force (momentum). I have more space to be present, and notice thick globs of snow falling in the cornfield outside my window. Everything has a white dusting, there’s a crisscross pattern of falling flakes; a slight slant to the left close up, and driven to the right out by the pines, as air flows freer further from the ‘structuring’ I sit within. The moment is peaceful yet pregnant. Suddenly, crows set down on maple branches, a stark contrast against the white flow. I’m watching and listening to the silence of the snow, and mildly curious about the winged raiders as they lift off headed for the next look-out. Silence and space; “free from the momentum that proclaims identity“; a silence I was led to by observing thoughts.
It’s nice here, noticing and falling into the silence; becoming the blanketing snow. I’m just not thinking about job hunting right now, there will be time enough for that construction. I’m aware I must plan, but now I’m just in-tune with unique flakes falling by the trillions, the sensual fullness of perception, and the system of planes and contours, gradation, and tonal density; moving dots screening white sky, washed-out distant trees, and tan cornstalks outlined in white.
DavidÂ
