On Monday, I took a stroll in the autumn with genetic offspring #2. A mysterious path in the autumn. mysterious path + autumn = double the pensive power.
It was a stroll of somewhat above average duration. As one tends to do during this sort of stroll, I was thinking. Not the modern kind of internet thinking during which one’s line of thought gets interrupted at least three times per minute, but the old-fashioned kind, with stately, fully-formed thoughts of some complexity.
In a meta-thought moment, I had a taste of focus. The kind of focus that enables one to be fully in the moment. All thoughts of other things that need to be done, or have been done, or of other moments that one might prefer being in, are displaced by complete acceptance of the now, and one’s undivided attention.
The following bit of D.H. Lawrence seems to be a suitable conclusion to this post:
Thought, I love thought. But not the juggling and twisting of already existent ideas. I despise that self-important game. Thought is the welling up of unknown life into consciousness, Thought is the testing of statements on the touchstone of consciousness, Thought is gazing onto the face of life, and reading what can be read, Thought is pondering over experience, and coming to conclusion. Thought is not a trick, or an exercise, or a set of dodges, Thought is a man in his wholeness, wholly attending.
P.S. I’ve just registered for the Dolphins & Teleportation Symposium in Hawaii. I hope to see you there.