Being in the Moment (Satcitananda)




I was staying at a retreat center in Peru on 9/11. I was not with anyone else from the United States. I remember at the first meal after the planes hit, another guest suggesting that the United States deserved it. I also remember the brief moment of gathering sympathy that, as a country, we threw away with the aggressive response.
The best thing about the retreat center was that instead of tea bags, every morning there were fresh herbs from the garden for tea. I continue to make my tea that way as much of the year as the garden is able.


When I first got to my room on the fourth floor of the hotel, the airconditioner was straining noisily, and the room was very stuffy. To My great delight — the windows not only open, but have screen and look out onto an unveveloped tract of land with trees higher than my window. I immediately opened the windows and let in the smell of fresh air and the sounds of the forest. There is occasional car noise, but it is muffled by the sounds of wind and rain in the trees.
I thought this morning how often I end up in an office building or hotel where the windows do not open. That cutting off access to the realities of nature, of what is greater than our little world, in order to have a controlled climate seems like much of modern life.
Many I know do not even notice that the windows do not open. Others of us, see the windows and want to know what is outside and to be with the greater energies. We seek to oprn the windows and know. Those who are able and so moved and who are able — rare beings — leave behind the buildings and go entirely on the renunciate path. The rest of us who live the life of householders, seek to have windows that open and spend time each day breathing in the sweetness of what is greater.
The first wild flush of the rose in the back garden passed a couple of weeks ago. But even in the heat, with leaves distressed by the beginnings of summer black spot, there are still a few exquisite blooms.
