I stand at my kitchen sink, a sponge in one hand, a slippery plate in the other. The water is hot and the sink is full of the day’s dishes.
My heart and breath sway in rhythm with each other. My mind is softly in the background, sometimes with a song I heard that day, other times wonderfully quiet. I lean down to put the dish in the dishwasher, feel the stretch in my back, the pressure on the bottoms of my feet.
I am witnessing myself in the present moment. Witnessing thoughts or song fragments that float through, witnessing that I am here, right now in this very simple moment, experiencing the vividness of what is.
My awareness doesn’t stick anywhere or grab onto any thought and pull it into the foreground. I am simply me, at the kitchen sink.
Have you ever done this? Just watched yourself quietly, without any intent to change the current of the river that’s flowing?
It always amazes me how much the present moment holds. The sheer weight of it is the fullness of my life, the fullness of me. The present moment holds all of me so easily, so effortlessly.
Yet the mind tends not to trust the present moment. Tends not to want to rest in it. It’s so much easier, isn’t it, so much more comfortably known to race ahead or look into the past, head swiveling this way and that, a disembodied consciousness. A consciousness divided into circumstances and events, beliefs, practices, information, and the rest of the ten thousand things.
The further away I am from the present moment, the further I am from myself.
Yet as I stand at my sink, in this moment, peacefulness and gratitude flow in and around me. I am not “practicing gratitude.” I am not trying to be peaceful. I’m not trying to manhandle my experience to be anything other than what it is. There is only me, watching the bubbles slide from my hands in the sink, my awareness flowing one moment into the next into the next.
Allowing what is.
Acknowledging what is.
Being with what is, moment by Grace-filled moment.