I am in constant awe of my body’s ever-changing status. It constantly updates. I suspect even Facebook would not want to know that much. I didn’t, not for years.
My body is masterful in the day-to-day of living, always working to provide me the best experience. It’s a mystery, this genius. Mindfulness gives me glimpses into it–life unfiltered.
I am completely present, acutely aware of life all around me. As well, there is a constant chatter of my ego, an ongoing array of emotional possibilities that could present as a problematic news feed with myriad threads.
Charles Dickens wrote that “every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.” I suspect I am that to myself as well. There are moments I figure out just enough to appreciate how profound existence is.
I need only to look into the face of an iris, purple with yellow. Together, we are wild in our ways but so settled in others. We share the sentience of being.
I am only a moment, and all I have is a moment but it is enough for a lifetime. In mindfulness, the day-to-day reality is workable. It takes me to the edge of the beyond.