Practice is all about being in the moment. The breath, the pulse of nerve, the flicker of memory are opportunities to land smack dab in the middle of the now. Every moment is exquisitely unique and as the famous saying goes, “you can’t step in the same river twice.” The moment need not be extraordinary—any moment will do to help you discover right where you are—the melody of a song, the sting of the winter wind, the taste of your tahini toast, the gurgle in your intestine.
When we investigate closely, we realize in fact that we are made of moments. Like a patchwork quilt stitched from many different strands, we are a composite of moments. When we bear witness to the immediacy of the moment, we realize ongoing presence. For this practice, you need not travel far, for the moment is always at hand. Look! A crystalline snow fleck is blown off the ponderosa bough outside my back window. And Listen! The drip of snowmelt off the roof gutter. However, bearing witness to the particularity of the moment is not the end of practice. We must realize that every moment is inseparable from the boundless source of being.
All too often, we get hoodwinked by the magical display of the moment and forget that we are part of a grand immensity. This then is the paradox of practice—can we be both imminent and transcendent, ephemeral and eternal, time-bound and timeless? When we behold our small self as inseparable from the Great Self, we realize the marrow of the yoga teachings.
