Watching quietly, anticipating nothing, I am open to what is here, now. I look at myself reading these words. I read slowly, I see the way I am sitting. I sense my body, the arising and the movement, of feelings---the way my breath comes and goes. I am the witnessing, passively watching and actively being watched.
I see that there can be a further letting go, a beginning relationship to an unchanging inner stillness. Like a white sheet of paper that retains its nature, I remain receptive but unstained, quietly in touch with what is taking place, attention wholly in the moment. Is there help in a stop? In an unfolding to a fresh time/space? Is there a way to be without doing?
Listening to the silence which is present in the stillness I become aware of a new web of relationships, of a unity bringing the body/mind structure to another threshold. I sense that there is another Reality that can be served. Again, a stop.
Will the fragility of my attention survive the experience of turning this page?
From William Segal, "The Structure of Man"
{Image linked/Photo by Erika Moen/Programming by DPC}
