Tuesday, 21 December 2010

A perfect moment

"Perfect moments" often crop up when you least expect them to.  The one that inspired the piece of writing that follows occurred on the not-especially-wonderful-but-quite-nice Manly Beach in Sydney after I'd spent 45 minutes wandering round the surf shops deciding that I couldn't find a T-shirt that I was prepared to pay the asking price of $60 for.  Not a very auspicious background for a realisation of bliss, you might think (as I did).  On this occassion we would both have been wrong...

As I sat looking out to sea, waiting vaguely for my friend to finish her shopping, a sense of complete wellbeing arose, along with some realisations that caused me to pick up my pen and my notebook, as I luxuriated in a perfect moment, in the sure knowledge that I could not hold onto it.

Of course, all moments are perfect, it's all about our relationship to reality, and that is the real subject of the little meandering poem/exploration below.  I hope you enjoy it.


The absolute bliss
of a perfect moment,
which is any moment
when you know
without a trace of doubt,
that all is well,
everything is as it should be,
and nothing needs to be done.

You are home.
You are home -
knowing that there is no distinction
between you and home.
You are, we are, it is

From here
it seems almost incredible
that you ever believed
that there was anything wrong,
that there was a problem with life,
that you needed something
in order to be

And yet,
checking the record books,
the archives,
the Polaroids,
you realise that you've been here
many times before.

Paradise found,
has somehow,
always become
paradise lost.

The glorious holiday you took last year,
is now reduced to a collection of
fragments of fading memory,
as is every other cherished experience
you've ever had,
or ever will have.

And the joy, which was welcome
has been replaced by flatness
or discomfort,
which aren't welcome at all.

How can this be?

It is simply the experience of being

It seems you have been
holding on to
the superficially plausible myth,
that a single perfect moment
can save your soul.
And it can't.

No experience is it,
and yet any experience
can be the gateway
to recovering your birthright.

To knowing yourself
as the ocean,
the wave,
the grain of sand,
and as god,
as love.

how to live?
If nothing is it
and everything is it?

I shrug and admit,
that I don't know.

What I do know
is that
living will happen,
choices will be made,
and life will unfold.

And the only choice remaining
that's worth the candle
is to love it,

over and over
and over