Presence

 

I wrote a post night before last, thought I clicked publish, and found last night was saved in drafts.

So I decided to write something else, I’ll write some more.

I was working on a bunch of Christmas projects, and while cleaning up a huge mess in my kitchen, I was listening to Eckhart Tolle last night, and just listening to his voice, soothes my mind. And it brought me some clarity.

Mostly.

Here I wonder, on Christmas Eve, if the world feels at all the Christmas spirit, or if our minds have been hijacked, and made to wander and buzz.

If the word feels at all like my mind, then I think I would do well, to pause, and point out my monkey mind. And tell it to stop jumping from tree to tree.

To pause, and put presence back into everything.

By not thinking about it so much.

But by looking, seeing. And saying thank you to whatever the moment brings.

To bring quiet back.

To let the mind which is always dancing---trying to discern, trying to judge, to be what it is, without calling things names, or judging them. To know the space behind all these cluttering things.

Presence. God’s presence here for us all.

Behind the noise of words, and thoughts, and music, and form, that comes and goes, and goes up and down like the ocean. And the mind judges it all. But does not know the secret behind its own noise.

Presence.

The truth holding it all together.

The love enfolding every form, and embraces it without judgment.

Grace.

To unwrap everything I am not.

Until I find.

That space.

Here is Christmas.

Peace on earth.

The manger of our hearts where everyone meets.

The space that knows no limits.

The space that is connected to everything.

To see all these things, and go deeper, where the mind has so much to protect. So many stories to uphold. So many things it thinks it is. See all the mind streams.

And jump into none of them.

There is a river beyond all rivers.

An ocean beyond all oceans.

A place where all of us meet.

A place beyond our minds roaming.

An inn.

And an out.

A cave.

Where Christ is.

A space that holds the most beautiful things.

Quiet the mind, let its waters settle. Listen to your breath. And though the world tries to scare you, and your own mind tries to tell you who you are, and who you are not.

The quiet space, is the truest voice.

Listen to its sound.

The place where nothing stands between you and this moment where you feel the truth of your own being, that is connected to the source.

The space where all beautiful words flow from, and lead to.

Here, we must all follow those bits of light, like a star.

To the place where the prince of peace wells.

This ever present, loving, beautiful now.