What now?

Clouds streak pink across the dawn, fire door squeaks, new day begins. A distant roar rumbles by and morning says hello through the window. I love windows! For three months now I’ve been sleeping without one, and now it gently wakens me, giving me a bright new outlook on the day. I love dawns, too!

So things are changing, as they always do. It is the nature of things. The eternal is not a thing, the eternal is all. Things are not eternal - things are just, well, things. Something to make idols of, something to feel separate from, a reason to believe instead of understand. And outside, the brown-red barn roof gets closer and closer to not being a thing anymore, as does the barn. Still holding together in vain hope of life, when life never was a thing.

It is so easy to forget. We spend lifetimes learning to remember, after all. And then, when we do, it was just an instant anyway. Time can be so deceptive in eternity. Like all things, it seems real.

I love this here, now. I love the coolness of the air, the warmth of the bed; I love the long shadows and bright, gentle shine of the morning; I love the soft colours around me; and I love the sound of the phone ringing, of voices, of fire crackling. I love that we are all awake earlier than normal; I love the tickly feeling in my bladder, the stuffiness of my nose, and its occasional moments of clarity. And a nose blows in the living room, and it could be mine, and I love that too.

What is there not to love when mind is clear? What is there not to love when I merely follow, for I would not lead? It all becomes clear when this is evident, when all those stories of being important, of leading, fade away and I see that the simple directions have always been here to lead me.

I have been stopping a lot recently. Stopping to ask, “What now?” And those moments of stillness scattered through the day are a blessing. I love stillness, for it is peace. And I had not been allowing myself that stillness much at all – too busy trying to be in charge, in control. There is no stillness in being right. And I love that every time I see I have tried to make a decision by myself that I tell myself, “I hope I have been wrong.” I love being wrong!

So this is a beautiful instant, closer to what I had become used to before. A roar returns and it reminds me of the rumblings in my mind these past three months – the machinations of madness that returned to haunt me after all that time.

And my work was being done, as it is now. This is doubtless not the end of suffering – merely a moment of respite – and still, it is a glimpse to the eternal and a reminder of what has been becoming truer and truer for me.

I love that I have been given the gift of relationship. I love that E is so forgiving. I love that I am getting closer and closer to the point that I realize this never had anything to do with her. And I love that as that becomes more and more the case, life here becomes easier and easier. When it has nothing at all to do with her – or me – I can stay forever and it cannot matter.