On fleeing the finitude
Oliver Burkeman writes about how our grasping ruins the good times we seek to preserve:
Had I put this feeling into words, it would have gone roughly as follows: “This is amazing! This is the kind of experience I love, so I want to make sure I’m getting the most from it, and I especially want to make sure that I keep on having this sort of experience repeatedly for the rest of my life!”, which, needless to say, is a sub-optimal way to be present in the moment. Mainly, though, the feeling in question wasn’t a matter of words. It was more of a clenching or a gripping, an attempt to grasp the moment and bring it under my ownership – which caused it, unsurprisingly, to draw back from me instead.
I loved Burkeman’s book, 4,000 Weeks: Time Management for Mortals. He has a way of eloquently laying waste to many sacred cows around productivity and positive thinking. Prediction: in ten years time, he will be a prominent spiritual teacher.
On contemplative guiding
Each week, I share pointers from spiritual teachers I’ve found insightful. Meditation and awakening have been passions/obsessions since I was a teenager and alongside coaching I’ve now started working with people as contemplative guide. This was a fun page to write. If you’re drawn to practice in this way, let’s talk.
One teacher I’m going deep with
Peter Brown is not a well-known teacher. He was unrelentingly direct, funny and original. He taught the Yoga of Radiant Presence: radiant presence being the essence of reality, and yoga being the work of sensitively attuning to this reality as it appears, right now. His presentation manages to sidestep 90% of preoccupations with ego, self, not-self, spirituality and non-duality.
His book, The Yoga of Radiant Presence, centres around a series of modern Sutras, followed by commentaries to help unpack the meaning. Nic Higham has a great introduction to Peter’s teaching. I enjoyed Paul Dobson talking to
about the impact Peter Brown had on him.One piece of poetry
And this breath, in this body, able,
just for a moment to give and to take,
to ask and be told, to find and be found,
to bless and be blessed, to hold and be held.We are all a sun-lit moment come from
a long darkness, what moves us always
comes from what is hidden, what seems
to be said so suddenly has lived
in the body for a long, long time.—David Whyte, A seeming stillness