Sitting Still facing a wall. Sitting still facing the person giving the Dharma talk. Letting the breath circulate, inhaling from base of the spine to top of head and allowing exhalation to naturally descend from Buddha crown at top, down the forehead and to the place where the front teeth and gums meet. Let it go inward and descent through the Heart into the Tan-Tien; three fingers below the bellybutton, near the cupped hands in the Cosmic Mudra. The Water of the Spirit flows freely.

The ears are hearing out to farthest reaches, the Sound of Silence appears and All is There, Different and One. The speaker glows a soft gold, as does the air in the room and there are infinitesimal movements of the Universe flowing and being still, simultaneously and all is well. Nothing special. The teaching enters and there is hearing but not listening there is receptivity but no holding. There is being and doing and non-doing, all together because that is how things are. For now.

A moment. Nothing special. The memories come in crowded, unbidden and smothering the willful effort of trying to meditate. Yet, there one is and there is no worry. Just sitting. Being still. Still. Allowing all things. God is either Every Thing or No Thing. Yes and No are not. Opposite they become maybe This, maybe That. It does not Matter. This shall pass. As will That. Neither coming nor going. Deep waters are still and alive within. No Thing stands still, everything seems Still.

The opposites arise and create apparent movement but once those oppositions are next to each other, there is no conflict no resolution. Its just how things are. Right now. Whoops there goes another Now. Where? Over there. Where? I can’t see It. Ok.