The Man with One Eye

I am pondering yet again the art of presence. Living and breathing the now. Sitting in this coffee shop I try to heighten each of my five senses by taking the time to notice each one, describing to myself the interpretation of my surrounding stimuli. The key is noticing, not analyzing. As soon as analysis enters the experience, so does judgment. Suddenly the peacefulness of simply being is disrupted by the noise of the mind. Anxiety regarding the past, and worry about the future are automatic components of this judgmental analysis of my sensory experience, now clouded by emotion, and I am no longer present —

In the midst of writing this I am interrupted by a one-eyed man asking for directions. Which I am unable to give him, being myself a relative stranger to San Francisco. Within moments we are discussing the philosophy of being, our individual pursuits of meaning, and the conclusion that there is no conclusion.

“Just do your best,” I tell him. He thinks for a second then smiles and says, “Yeah, I s’pose that’s all you can do, huh?”

It is my belief that this brief interaction gives evidence to the theory that our minds emit a kind of quantum energy, with like attracting like. It is possible that my musings on “being” caused this man (who had been sitting next to me for quite sometime) to turn to me and engage in a conversation which quickly went towards the subject that produced the very energy he was drawn to. Or perhaps he’s just a man who needed directions and I am the nearest person to him. Two theories of an endless assortment of possibilities. I digress…

Being present is far less challenging when one’s only agenda is to not have one, leading people such as myself to just go sit on a beach. Peaceful environments such as this were my practice grounds for “the art of the now” these last five months. In spite of such optimal conditions it was still a challenge. The true test will be attempting those moments of timelessness in the midst of resuming a life that runs by the tick of the clock: breeding grounds for stress and anxiety. I realize that succumbing to those conditions is a choice. A daily one. Even moment by moment. We are after all, the facilitators of our own reality.