When one first begins to work with conscious attention one discovers that the subsystems of body, feelings, and mind function inefficiently and disharmoniously. Yet the simple awareness of misalignment may introduce an element capable of binding the disparate parts into an integrated whole. With sustained awareness comes a heightened sensitivity, openness, a quiet mind. Man’s structure becomes receptive to the advent of fresh, vivifying energies descending from a mysterious source. This creates a field, where higher energies can transform the lower.
Frederick H. Evans, Westminster Abbey, Apse from Choir, 1911. Thank you, firsttimeuser & elysskama.
(Source: gypsji)
“I often recall these words when I am writing, and I think to myself, ‘It’s true. There aren’t any new words. Our job is to give new meanings and special overtones to absolutely ordinary words.’ I find the thought reassuring. It means that vast, unknown stretches still lie before us, fertile territories just waiting for us to cultivate them.”
—Haruki Murakami
Yes. Thank you, apoetreflects.
Claudio Parmiggiani, L’Isola del Silenzio (one hundred thousand books, soot, & church bell) Thank you, kateoplis.
Dropping the Head & Settling in the Heart

Inspired by this post from earlier today, I wrote an inquiry into this practice over at Intense City:
Usually my center of gravity is in my head, and often I am not even aware that I have a body below it. How does one move from a fragmented and self-centered point of view to a more encompassing and organic intelligence that is responsive to the subtle movements of feeling? In other words, how do you get your center of gravity down lower in the body?…
You must descend from
your head into your heart.
At present your thoughts of God
are in your head. And God Himself is,
as it were, outside you, and
so your prayer and other spiritual
exercises
remain exterior. Whilst you are still
in your head,
thoughts will not easily be subdued but
will always be whirling about, like snow
in winter or
clouds of mosquitoes in summer.
David Moore, Sydney Harbour Bridge, 1947. With many thanks to luzfosca.










Matthew Halsall | “The Move,” from the exceptional album On the Go, 2011
from William Segal, “Openings”
We are living in a special time. Throughout the world there is a stirring and an interrelation of forces never before experienced by mankind. All around us we see an unprecedented acceleration of the possibilities of change. Power potentials have been released which threaten to upset cosmic balances.
Ironically, the more gigantic and astonishing our manipulations of these energies, the more puerile and insignificant our understanding of them. Philosophers and scientists are coming to agree that not only do we need a deep alteration in the present state of mankind, but that a radical shift depends solely on our relationship to consciousness – the invisible, fundamental energy behind phenomenal existence.
As one walks the streets of the city, one is struck by the energies manifested through each human being – the results of wishes, emotions, and physical movements, energies in incessant random motion. Inextricably bound to an entire fabric of events, we have no choice but to submit to the rhythm and momentum of our ordinary lives. Yet, in the midst of the flux, a call to consciousness can be heard. Is it possible to accept one’s inevitable destiny, and, at the same time, open to the timeless, spaceless, essential movement? Can we microscopic entities, beset by our frailties and mal-training, initiate a radical transformation for ourselves and for the earth?
Thank you, reclusland.
Since the entirety of our virtual world is being constructed in the present moment, it is crucial to learn to pay attention to this moment. Paying attention sounds simple; one might think we do it all the time, but we actually pay attention very little to what is going on in our present experience. The human mind is constantly swinging into the future and the past, and like a pendulum it passes through the present moment barely enough for us to keep our bearings. The Buddhists are not saying that we should cut off our sensitivity to the full range of experience and live ordinary life in some sort of eternal present. But in order to get beyond some of the embedded habits of the mind, in order to get free of some of the distortions and confusions to which we are subject, we need to train ourselves to attend very carefully and very deliberately to the process by which we construct past and future experience in the present moment. And this is largely what mindfulness practice is all about. It is accessing the present moment, and it involves cultivating the intention to attend to what is happening right now. Left to its own inclinations, the mind would much rather weave its way through some thought pattern that makes us feel good about ourselves, and lead us away from any kind of insight that might threaten our ideas about ourselves. The mind needs to be carefully and gently encouraged through constant practice to look carefully and deeply at what is unfolding in the immediately present moment.


