Forest Gump

I’ve come to a rather sobering realization lately:  considering my skills, talents and abilities, I am fortunate to be employed at all.

Really.

I have no marketable skills. Perhaps even more disturbing, I lack any interest or motivation in developing my skillset. How is it that I have managed to avoid being fired all these years?

I am good at one thing:  sitting like an idiot. I am sure that Forest Gump and I are twin brothers separated at birth.

Of course, Forest Gump is an enlightened master, so maybe there is hope for me afterall.

Toothless Old Geezer

With increasing frequency I find myself approaching my meditation chair.  It sits in the corner, by a window, a firm, upright piece that was given to me by some nuns I know.

Sometimes I am not sure what to do with the next 15 minutes. So I sit in the chair.

My eyes remain open, my mind becomes a blank table.

I look around, seeing everything that is contained in that moment. I call it ‘toothless old geezer training.’

I don’t know for sure, but at the end of an aged life, I may find that I am a toothless old geezer. In an odd way, I kind of look forward to it.

Senior Moments

My friend greets me with the surprise, delight and wonder of a 5year old, amazed yet again that I am, apparently, alive and still walking the earth.  Of course, a couple of days ago I told her I would be dropping by to see her. She is 86 and does not remember things. I have not, in the last 11 years, seen her so child-like, contented, free from grasping.  Like a Zen Master, she sits, completely in the moment, in perfect harmony with what is.

And me? Now in my mid-forties, I aspire to have a few such senior moments, moments of wisdom and tranquility.

Boredom

I am learning how to be bored. I go to work and sit and do nothing, even as I am doing something.  I shuffle papers, I stare out the window, make a phone call.

I listen to silence from a place of stillness.

Nothing is happening; everything is happening.

I’m bored, but not bored.

What is boredom but a name for an experience?  Boredom does not exist.

Who lives down there, below the state of what is called ‘boredom’? I live and breathe underneath it, a soul-presence who does not know the meaning of the word boredom, entirely at peace.