I did a lot of shopping last weekend, in and out of several stores rounding up stuff for my new Mac: adapters, cables, flash memory. By the time I got to Staples, and it was conflated with the stuff in my head, it looked like all the other stores I’d visited. When I exited to the parking lot, I experienced a momentary thrill when I realized I didn’t know where I was.
For an extended moment, I was in the now that Tolle talks about. I clung to it for as long as I could, savoring the vivid disorientation, the presence, before my bearings regrettably returned. That was quickly followed, as I proceeded to the car, by an overlay of rational thought, the chatter of the day’s concerns.
I sense that moments like this, connotation-free manifestations of themselves, can be cultivated and expanded. That the tyranny of the inner narrative can be deposed and deferred. For now.