Aldous Huxley's Doors of Perception speaks of the beautiful Hindu epithet for the true experience of reality that is "satchitananda" -- or being, awareness, bliss. In achieving this state of existence, Huxley said that he was experiencing "the miracle, moment by moment, of naked existence."
In order to articulate what I think this -- the naked existence of satchitananda -- is I'd like to share a journal entry I found recently that expresses, I think, a moment when I was grasping at this state of being.
I'm sitting outside for at least 15 minutes, grasping at creative straws, trying to focus while feeling infuriated by the incessant beeping and scraping of construction nearby, poking and prodding my brain for some sort of inspiration so I can have something to bring back to my creative writing teacher when it is time for class to begin again. I'm not sure how it happens, then, but something in my heart changes, and I realize just how much time I've wasted staring down at a blank page in frustration. Maybe it was the gentle brush of wind against my cheek, or the lady bug landing on my knee, or the realization of the warmth of the sun on my skin, but something brings me into the present moment and, for the first time in my 15 minutes outside, I put my pencil down and just notice. I allow myself to be for a moment. I allow myself to notice every sound, every sight, every sensation that previously created or surrounded my vexation. And I try, to the best of my ability, not to judge them -- not to be angered or identify them, but just to observe them as they are.
And then there's peace. It isn't like all noise stops, no, but rather everything melds into one being. The chirps of birds, the scrapes of construction, the rustling of leaves -- suddenly, they aren't separate entities. They came here together; they've always been together, it seems. I'm sure at this moment that my life has always been this way -- listening to cicadas shake their maracas in the trees, breathing in the smell of all that is new and old and in between. The wisps of mother nature's hair caress my cheek, then, the gentlest touch, as if to say "welcome home."
I highly suggest The Doors of Perception, my friends; I cannot do nearly enough justice to it. Even after that, if "satchitananda" speaks to you, perhaps look into Hinduism -- or, if you want something a little more western, maybe Alan Watts lectures on mindfulness. Either way, and at the very least, I hope, as always, that you live the lives that only you can live -- and that you notice every second you are given.
Namaste, my friends.
