Well,
Here we are again,
You,
Me,
The sound of birds,
A winter sun that's already risen,
But hidden behind thick grey clouds,
Storm chandra passing through.
I can hear the wind,
Its sweeping rain into the bedroom window,
Making that soft,
Percussive,
Protective sound,
A sound as old as we are,
A sound I've always loved.
It sounds like safety,
Like shelter,
Like being held.
Just for a moment,
What can you hear?
Don't name it,
See if you can listen without needing to know what it's called.
Listen with new ears.
Notice how every sound arises,
Stays for a while and then disappears.
Some sounds are short and broken,
Like birdsong puncturing the air,
Little fragments of heaven that sweeten the silence.
Some sounds arrive slowly,
Like the lorries in the distance.
They grow,
They peak and that rumble fades away and we can sit here and watch this whole dance of sound happen,
Arising and then fading away.
Can you feel how peaceful it is to listen like this,
Without labels,
Without commentary?
There's something very deep hiding in this simple noticing.
Because we are like this too.
We come into being,
Have our lives and then fade away.
And in between,
We live a thousand little lives.
One moment we're here,
The next we're lost in some story,
Some memory,
Some imagined future.
So,
Come back to this life now.
So,
Write this.
I'm lying in bed.
It's early,
Don't judge me.
I just noticed something I hadn't noticed at all a moment ago.
Under the duvet,
My legs are crossed at the ankles.
How are they not known?
And the foot,
On top is tingling.
Pins and needles.
Because the circulation's been cut off.
I was totally unaware.
I didn't know until I looked,
Until I gently scanned my body.
What about you?
Where are your legs?
What's happening in your body right now?
Let life be known.
Find one physical sensation you hadn't noticed until this moment.
And just rest your attention there.
See if you can notice the same thing we noticed with sound.
It appears,
Changes,
It fades.
Maybe what you find is pleasant.
Maybe it's neutral.
Or maybe it's uncomfortable.
Pain is a powerful one,
Isn't it?
It grabs our attention so easily.
We tend to think of pain as something solid,
A lump,
A block.
Something immovable,
Fixed.
Something to escape from,
To get rid of.
But,
If you look more closely,
If you look more closely,
It isn't like that at all.
Pain is more like birdsong.
Or wind.
Or rain on glass.
It's movement,
Vibration,
Change.
If you slowly move into it,
And explore it,
What do you actually find?
Heat,
Tension,
Throbbing,
Pressure.
Watch how it shifts.
How it changes shape.
How it's never quite the same from one moment to the next.
And the more you get to know it,
The less you fear it.
Because half of pain's power is the story it tells us.
This is going to get worse and you won't be able to handle it.
But with presence,
With a gentle,
Steady attention,
You can handle far more than you think.
This is where real strength comes from,
Not from forcing life to be different,
But from learning how to stay.
And maybe,
Hopefully what you're feeling right now isn't pain at all.
Maybe it's a quiet ease.
Or a soft warm.
Or that subtle glow of simply being alive.
And you know,
From the point of view of living deeply,
Both are of equal value.
They're both ways life is learning to be known.
Tomorrow,
Let's look at the quiet beauty of living like this.
A life lived close,
Intimate.
And a life lived in small amazement.
A life lived in the wow.
See you tomorrow.
