Refuge of the Present

One of the winter time treasures is getting up around 6am into the cold air, going through to the kitchen, turning the heating on and returning to a cosy bed with a cup of tea. 2 hours later it’s warm enough to get up, and the clothes are on the radiator heating up. Its a lovely little morning routine. This morning in bed I’m listening to Bernardo Kastrup in oconversation about the very nature of us as consciousness.

I remember hearing Kastrup saying in this chat that he has been reluctant to step into the role of wise older person. This is because he has been waiting for some wise older person to rescue him. And if he stepped up that would be admitting the wise person wasn’t coming to rescue him. His dad had died when he was 12.

That resonated with me. If you step up, you end the dream of being rescued. You become your own rescuer.

In the shower this morning I remembered to use my senses to be present. Feel the water sprinkling on the skin, go down the body and acknowledge and say thanks to each part. Hear the sounds. Breath from the abdomen. It’s a divine refuge to be back in the present, and not in the land of thoughts.

I eat a couple of dried figs, marvelling at the treat it is to have such an exotic fruit so freely available. A couple of dried prunes, apricots…I savour the taste and the distance they have travelled, the affordability of such far off fruits. I eat a little piece of blue cheese. I thank those involved in this including the cows. What an abundance we have.

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