The "Love" of Now
Being alive is quietly exhausting.
There are little moments of discomfort or pain in our daily lives,
and yet, just from a sudden warmth or a connection,
I think that's why we decide to live another day.
It feels like a miracle,
but I also feel like it's somewhat cruel.
I, too, have learned so much in the past,
trying to become happy.
Things like healing, spirituality, and self-discovery.
There were times I felt, "Oh, this has saved me..."
and because of that, there were times I wanted to share that with someone else.
But, that alone gradually became painful.
Before I knew it, "salvation" had become a "frame."
I was running because I wanted to be free,
but it felt like I was just tied to a different set of chains.
And because those chains were also made of love and kindness,
it was hard to even notice them.
I let go of many things,
and I did everything I could.
What remained after I felt that way was "here and now."
But it wasn't something sparkling.
It was the same old feeling, nothing different.
You could say it can be changed, or you could say it can't.
The existence that is me is certainly me, but
I am also wrapped in the background of how I was raised, the paths I chose,
and the things I couldn't choose.
There are things I can grasp,
and there are many parts I can't do anything about.
But, without blaming those things or giving up on them,
I just quietly think that's how things are.
There are many skills and teachings in this world
that someone else has shared, thinking, "This saved me."
Everything is correct, and everything is incorrect.
The answer lies within yourself.
I am just here now,
and in a landscape that looks no different than usual,
how do I feel about those things?
Where do I want to be?
I try choosing just a little bit.
Maybe that feeling is what it's all about.
So I am just here, doing just this.
Just being here now.
A here and now overflowing with possibilities, which is all I can say it is.
I could try my best,
but I choose not to try so hard.
Because this place is abundant,
and just feeling that is enough.
That's the kind of feeling it is.
The ordinary present suddenly becomes dear to me.
I'm home. Me. 🫖
🫧 The door to play is gently open🎡