Don’t mind the gap

A friend of mine once commented to me: “Most of our lives are lived purely in our heads.” This was a sobering reminder of the importance of distinguishing between our prevailing reality and the memories and/or fantasies we play out in our minds, which can often be physically and mentally exhausting. As far as memories are concerned, it’s helpful to acknowledge that there’s nothing we can do to change, or bring back, the past. In terms of fantasies, whether of outcomes we wish for or fear, although it may be OK to indulge for a while, I feel it’s important to be able to do so in moderation since oftentimes those hopes/fears never come to pass in the end, so a lot of time and energy can be spent on something that ultimately has no purpose. As such, don’t mind the gap i.e. the gap between where you are and where you wish to be; or who you are and who you want to become. The gap is part of the game of physical-plane life. It will always be there; so, there’s no point in stressing over it. Once you cross the gap, a new gap will surely materialise (unless you reach enlightenment first) and the whole process starts over. I feel we’d do well to teach our children from an early age this aspect of living an empowered life as it would spare them much personal suffering and assist them in living a more joyful existence.

Excerpt from “She Who Is Unto Herself”

Sensory persuits

I remember being totally struck one year by a woman I met when I was on holiday in France. She seemed to be deeply appreciative of each and every thing she was experiencing. At the breakfast table in the gîte, where all the guests ate together in the morning, she would extol the virtues of the jam and the bread made by the owner. It was clear she could savour the tastes and smells to an extent that far surpassed the experience of the rest of us. She also regularly referred to the beauty of the surrounding gardens, making detailed comments about the vegetation that clearly indicated she had noticed, and hugely appreciated, an array of flowers, garden ornaments, etc. It was captivating to see and hear her. I felt in awe of her – grateful to her. My partner of the time didn’t feel that way at all. He complained that: “She’s so exaggerated!” But, for me, I immediately recognised something very unique in that woman – the ability to deeply appreciate the inputs her sensory organs were offering her. The memory of her has remained in my mind for over a decade. At the time I didn’t know about Tantra (although I was on a spiritual path). Now, I would most certainly identify her as a person who was capable of living her life tantrically. Seeing her ability to connect with her senses, I became profoundly aware of how cut off I was from my own. Well, no more cut off than the majority of persons, perhaps. Continue reading