Paying attention
Sometimes I look at the world — especially if I’m anywhere near a strip mall — and think, “14.5 billion years of evolution and this is the best we can do?” And then I’m reminded, somewhere in this small individual mind, that inherent in this sentiment is a judgement that implies I can somehow have a greater sense of order than order itself does. It’s a thought built on an arrogance that is, I think, a defense against a great, primal fear: the fear of the overwhelming amazingness of all of this.
They say that we only register a percentage of the information that our eyes receive. That our ears receive. That our beings receive. If we were to take it all in, we would be overwhelmed; blown over. Unable to function. Perhaps this is why we filter the world through our judgements. If we were to perceive the vast awesomeness of each moment, how could we live?
I’m not sure if this is the why (or merely a why). All I know is that paying attention to the ways in which I am arrogant, and am disconnected from the moment-to-moment miracles of our times seems like one aspect of our collective liberation.
Paying attention opens us to the possibility that every moment contains what we need to be liberated. Imagine.