I was also sitting in a coffee shop this morning. You came to mind, because I was pleased that I had obeyed you and was not in a faceless coffee chain. The barristars did their work (yes they’re that good at Peter’s Yard) and I mulled your last missive.
What is quietness? What does it allow. Thought, or experience? I opened the copy of the New Scientist you sent me – with the article – Does Now exist – and a question came to mind.
What is present? Surely it’s a vanishingly small thing. If you play music you need the notes before and after the actual one you are playing in order to add context. The note alone does not have harmony or meaning except as part of sequence (call that melody). So the Now of music at least stretches a little bit into the past. The whole piece – with it’s over all (Now) effect takes time.
I have found that it really helps to live in the present – and exclude worry about the future(s) and pollution from the past. But the Now that we live in is a kind of corridor, with a small piece of past and future in order to add context to the infinitely small present.
(I do understand that being present is a different thing from being in the present).
It occurs to me that one way in which we can define our life is the width of the Now corridor in which we live. Ultimately focussed and we are living in Zen. Extremely unfocussed and we’re tossed about in the material world created by time.
Is there a happy medium in which we can still enjoy a good tune?