In the Presence of Being

"Let us close our eyes and have a moment of silence", he said as we reached the highest point on the island, standing on the hill that tectonically emerged through three crescent shaped shores. After hours long of sailing my excitement could no longer be contained as we approached closer to the volcanic mountains surrounded by deep bays. It was a unique sight and compared to nothing I had seen before. The place was completely uninhabited by humans, yet it was home to a variety of living things including species of reptiles, falcons, turtles but also sharks, and even the occasional whale. I had been warned of a specific type of poisonous snake slithering on the rocky surface, difficult to detect and ready to strike when provoked. Aware of what could be passing through the bushes and the grasslands, I progressed forward with steady and cautious steps.

The sun had already begun its descent, breaking the light into thousands of rays, each cutting through the skies in hues of golden, orange, crimson and the brightest fuchsia. The seemingly still waters afar reflected some of the colors in slightly lighter, watercolored shades. The scene was unbelievably picturesque, but without uttering a word, we all knew, it was impossible to capture.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes. Just as I began wondering why we closed our eyes in precisely these moments, where it seemed like no matter how long we took the sight in, it was never enough, the answer came back to me immediately. The next breath I took felt different, lighter like a splash of fresh water, as I became more in sound with my surroundings, slowly deepening my awareness, because seeing was simply not enough. What was visible to the eye was nothing more than a fraction of what the present moment actually held. Limiting my perception solely to the element of vision felt like a betrayal, a mockery of all the other senses and that which went beyond. While I was in speechless awe of the scene, trying to memorize every detail, it would have been naive to believe this was all it had to offer. The beauty of it exceeded all sensory bounds and was not confined to what was seen through the eyes or felt through the warm tingle on the skin of the run rays. It did not just encompass the serene sound of the waves breaking on the rocks in constant and calming rhythms or the whistle of the light breeze. It went beyond myself, my own experience or any other travelers on the journey to themselves. When in one moment one leaves the world of the senses and taps into spaceless matter devoid of any attachment, logic or sense, it is then, when the next breath one takes, is truly different.

As I am remembering this moment, I want to recall the lesson it taught me. Like everybody else, I move in phases where some days are better and others are worse, all part of the natural flow. Each waves carries unexpected challenges and brings forth new triumphs. Amidst these currents of highs and lows there are moments we wish time would pass quickly, or even, that we could jump ahead of time, skipping the uneasy parts and rough patches. Too often we find ourselves reminiscing the past or planning the future, either overthinking things we cannot change anymore or anticipating a future we cannot control. All this time, the present moment, like a hidden pearl in a lost shell, remains inaccessible to us. Yet, that is exactly where life is happening - now, in this very moment, in the falling of a single grain of sand in an hourglass. Instead of getting lost in the labyrinth of our thoughts, negative or positive, simply being, has become impossible. Mastering Shunyata, a state of being or meditation practiced widely in ancient India, is an art known to us for the longest time, yet seems impractical or even silly in a world, where we are running, either to or away from something. Constraints of availability and time make us to fall prey to stringent schedules and evoke symptoms of overplanning, with quick coffee runs and squeezed-in lunches, short texts and curt nods,  focusing on output and efficiency in the race we call life.

A single moment can hold the whole of eternity. For what even is time other than the tick of a clock, the marked cross in a square of a desk calendar, a cold calculation, that is meant to give purpose, direction, a point of reference, yet never fails to trap us in its web of trickery. Trapped in a conversation, a job or any task that fails to spark our interest, even a single minute may seem to go on for ages, whereas time is never enough when you catch up with a childhood friend, sunbathe on a long sandy beach, or are in your lovers arms. Time is cruel, and time is a gift. But in that moment, as I stood on the top of the hill and closed my eyes, it felt like time ceased to exist in its entirety. There was neither past not future, nowhere to go, nowhere to be. Somehow everything seemed to dissolve - every fear, resentment and anxiety simply vanished, like a raindrop evaporating from liquid to gas, returning to the sky far far away from the very soil it touched.

Later that night, as we continued our journey, a friend shared a story. When he was a boy, no more than ten years old, his father sent him and his brother to the forest at night with a torch and light blankets. Tonight they were asked to sleep in the outdoors under the bed of stars. The brothers did as they were told and returned to the house the next morning. When the father asked them, what they saw last night as they watched the stars, the boy answered simply, „That we are very small.“  Now a grown man, he said this lesson had shaped his life. Time is too precious for attachment. We are, indeed, very small. At times of luck or fate, we may get what we desired and worked hard for, but at other times we may face rejection, failure, loss or even heartbreak. When this happens, it leads to all kinds of reactions; people of faith sometimes direct their anger to God, demanding answers to their unheard prayers, others lose motivation to keep going, but there are some who stay resilient. Equally calm through both pleasure and pain, they float on different tides with a remarkable sense of patience and confidence. Graceful, as they accept every wish granted as a blessing and wise, as they treat every hurdle as one and the same.

An entire lifetime can pass in a blink of the eye. Rather than expending more cognitive energy wading through thoughts and perfecting plans, I was able to find happiness by just being. So, I paused once more, closed my eyes, took a breath in and finally, let it go.