Springwater Journal/Day 3

Upon waking this morning, it was observed that the mind had become wonderfully spacious and still. Thoughts could be seen, could actually be observed, like living forms, as they arose in silence and vanished, like ghosts. While getting dressed, it was clear that it was not the usual ‘you’ who was in charge of things. Something had shifted in that department. There was still a ‘you’, but now it was a silent you. You were silence and silence was you. It was silence pulling on your socks and silence buttoning your shirt. Silence was taking care of everything effortlessly. Washing the face, the hot water and soap, lathering and shaving, was all a delight, uncluttered with thoughts and self-imposed pressures. There is such aliveness in each moment, and the question arises, what happens to this precious aliveness in daily life? Why does it seem to become so easily obscured? It is quite clear that this simple presence is the source of true happiness, no matter what one’s life may be. To operate out of this ‘no- self’ is the end of conflict, period. Why, then, does it seem so difficult for most of us to find and sustain presence?

The mind became preoccupied with this query for a while. It is a very familiar, recurring question for people who attend retreats and know they have to return to demanding, busy lives. There was this morning, however, an innocence; a presence that overcame thought. It had an urgency that burned away all thoughts of past and future. It had nothing to do with a ‘you,’ and as you entered the meditation hall and looked out through the big windows, the sun was rising over the hills in deep silence and beauty beyond words.