A Perfect Contentedness

A meal is placed before you.  Its base content is of poor quality and little care has been given to its preparation and presentation.  Or, someone, in their unawareness (or habit), barks some projection at you.  Or, you are a little homesick, feeling a bit like a fish out of water, disconnected from what you think of yourself or your purpose.

This is everyday life: the pleasures and the displeasures that move in and out of our field, momentarily or with more permanence.  We are subject to the lack of awareness of others and ourselves practically at all times. Our sense of ourselves is moment to moment challenged in big and little ways.  The universe somehow has guaranteed we will always have a knee jerk reaction internally or externally and suffer a longing and desire to be different, to be somewhere else.

And then there is perfect contentedness.  Somehow, one finds oneself being in the seat of themselves, in full awareness of the abomination of the meal before them.  Something becomes slow and makes a decision to explore the unpleasant experience of eating it, or not. No need for complaint or to take issue, but an interesting experience of being with what is. Or, after the “bark” is received by the clueless other, a pause transpires and one is able to be in one’s compassion when responding.  Or, one’s identity that is usually so tightly wrapped and fully confirmed, that doesn’t like difference, expands.  One is able to relax and hear the chimes on the porch for the first time today and has some sort of surrender and acceptance of the momentary dis-ease.

Perfect contentedness is not dependent on anything or anyone outside myself, nor the conditions or circumstances at hand.  It is a Being state related to my alignment in myself.  The energetic reception of a jug of water handed to me by a non-aware other will one time leave me feeling uncared-for, unseen and another time will inspire this perfect contentedness.  In that instance, my response becomes an experience of becoming quite slow in myself, able to have access to the sensation of my own organism handling the jug, aware of its' cool condensation and weight, somehow relating to the weight I feel in my torso.  This momentary lack of care by another is replaced by my own care.  And that is perfect.  I am Alive.  For the moment, not being influenced by or joining the sleep-walkers that surround me.  A perfect contentedness.