I need a Fedora. :
I used to have a beautiful light grey one with a black silk band and scarlet red feathers jutting out. It was so kewl.
I miss it more than any material thing I've ever had.
Course now I need an EXTRA LARGE Fedora thanks to my big fat dready head.
Heck, I just like saying
Fedora... fedora... fedora...
or maybe a Porkpie?
Porkpie... porkpie... porkpie...
not as fun.
I'm so glad to see that I, too, can be frivilous and speak about hats & such. Sometimes I secretly judge others for things like that. I want EVERYTHING to be MEAT & MARROW; weighty, substantial, an excavation, a means to catapult me further, blood & juice. Most conversations aren't like that though. Most conversations are about things like hats and movies and jobs and what bugs me and what bugs you and commiserating. Yea, we do that alot. Commiserate. :
Bah. I am of the Rejoicing kind!!Meat & Marrow.
So the beautiful and brave inushnu
and I are chatting and she asks, "What are we without our storylines?"
And I say, "In the moment."
She retorts " but "the moment" exists BECAUSE of the past, because of the stories in our consiousness... there is no way to be blank because, underlying all of our "awareness" is our stories. It is the foundation to all we are. With our stories we create our world."
And there it hung, suspended but not neglected. Suspended but ever beckoning me to respond so here I shall try.
It happened on a wknd meditation retreat at the Shambhala center. On a Sunday afternoon. It's so true what the peace advocate Thich Nhat Hahn says. Our minds are like just poured apple juice- all swirling and muddy with big chunks of pulp floating by. But after the juice sits and settles, after our minds sit and settle- there is clarity. So I'm sitting and watching my mind jump from one branch to the next and I'm coming back to my breath and the mind flits again and I'm back with my breathing and then... suddenly... I'm gone. The 'I am' is gone and there is just..... breathing. Breathing and this ... this... merging. I was nothing and therefore, I was everything. I was as blank and wide and beautiful as the sky. I was everything. I was NO thing. And it was a beautiful and serene place to be but something noticed and something became afraid and I quickly came back to myself and some commitee members started to fret and wonder where I went and worry that maybe sometime I wouldn't come back and the fear was that the THOUGHTS were gone and I realized how much I equated the "Me" to my thoughts, my running commentary, my STORIES. It's funny now but was quite an ordeal at the time! And I slowly and gently learned that it was erroneous for me to think that I was my thoughts. That I was so much more than my commitee, or so much less rather- well they both pertain. Where I went is beyond duality altogether.
It was pure freedom.