On Being, Not Becoming

My state-of-being is a temporary residence. It is one moment amidst an infinite amount of moments. My state-of-being is one flap of one hummingbird's wing amidst a limitless charm of them inexhaustibly fluttering about. Each moment, however insignificant it may seem or unnoticed it goes, has changed me. I am never as I was. No matter how strongly I am influenced by an experience and any accompanying beliefs, emotions, and ideas; no matter how strongly I cling to them and the sense of identity that is derived from them; and no matter how apparent some tendencies or themes appear to remain, something has changed. Something has been introduced, reinforced, revised, or removed. Even as I write these words I am changing. Life (be it as a human or any other expression of existence) seems to be dynamic. To attempt to understand the current moment, as it continuously unfolds before me, from the perspective of previous moments is to miss the mark every time, and yet it seems like the only perspective I can ever proceed from. Lest I trust that understanding is an inherent characteristic of each moment that I need only ever to experience - to be is to understand.

If the me I will become a moment from now does not yet exist how might it be accurately contemplated, discussed, or prepared for. It is an attempt to address what can never be known. Everything seems to exist in this state; from one moment to the next compulsively chasing the unknown. Motivated by the desire for certainty or control I plan & predict. I analyze, anticipate, reason, and or speculate. I must realize at some level of my being that I can never accurately capture, much less comprehend life beyond our species' anecdotal, conjectural, or so-called factual insights into it. Such insights are themselves limited to human cognizance. Currently, my insights lead me to believe that life is from one moment to the next. The most I seem guaranteed of is my experience of it. We seem capable of choice, so we are in this sense self-deterministic; however, in choosing a devotion of some kind or another a resistance to the general dynamism of life's current arises. I assume that the mind must match said dynamism if it is to avoid the conflict or confusion that naturally accompanies such obstinacy and Promethean idealism. If the mind is tethered to an unreasonably rigid (or even well rationalized) conviction it seems necessarily at odds with the very context from which it originates - namely the mutable nature of life itself.

The mind can not be free of its perceived struggle (i.e. confusion, lack of understanding) with life without acknowledging and accepting its place within it. Life's very nature seems that of constant change. If the mind is a product of life then it exists within the domain of change. If the mind is anchored to conviction it is pitted against itself. It seeks preservation where disintegration and reintegration are the manner by which life naturally proceeds. In naively resisting its very nature it becomes the source of the struggle it dissociatively grapples with. It is the crossroads of self-determination and determinism. In such a state the mind seeks to establish certainty, consistency, durability, permanence, stability, or an immortality of sorts where there can be none but the ineffable - life as moments within which we are found.

Each moment is anew in the sense that something has changed. To honor life is to acknowledge & accept the mind's role as an agent and offspring of change. Herein lies the fullness of being. In spite of life's torrential current, conviction will remain much like a rock in the middle of a river. Conviction appears to be a consequence of uncertainty. Uncertainty, if framed as an undesirable notion, may elicit unease which then provokes a desire to be certain or secure. The value is set. It is here that some minds prefer to remain - fixed, in the middle of the river. They defy the deft flow of change - deny their very nature - only to be eroded nevertheless.

So with each moment some part of me dies while another is born, and that is as close to immortality as I can ever hope to achieve. Providing I am even aware enough to appreciate such linearly perceived or periodical moments that constitute the grand event by and large. This in itself is an honor, so for me each moment is a celebration of Life. I wish to yield to it with an attitude of gratitude and by surrendering myself to every moment as it is, not as previous moments might have me perceive descendant ones or as future designs might prompt me to prepare. It is here that I might exercise my potential, or simpler still, be with the understanding that there is never a moment when it is not being realized. Perhaps I am mistaken - taken with contemplation. Most likely.

Be Well, Loved Ones...

Albert