How can I come into the present moment, you ask. Come clean. Come empty. Come full of space. Come full of empty space.
If you let a word define you it will always be wrong. Words disintegrate, letters crumble. They are but vanishing ink marks on a slate. Do you really want to hang one around your neck like a noose ? Take a word, if you must, hold it tight and never let it go. The winner is me ! Raise your clutched hand high, shout the word out loud. But do you really want to make yourself so small ? Do you want to live hidden in such a cramped space, behind letters that someone might suddenly and simply erase ? Winner is just a word and you are so much more.
Be it success or failure, beauty or beast, awesome or awful, all words worn like identity tags represent the same thing, the bars of our self-imposed prisons. You want to know how to come into the present moment. It’s simple. Come clean. No labels allowed.
There is no word for you because no form can depict formlessness. You know you are not a thing. You know that even your body isn’t you. It’s just the temporary dwelling place of your eternal you. Forms attach to forms. Therefore nothing can latch onto you. So come into the present moment barefoot, without a map, without a clue, without an anchor. Come without ropes, like words, that can only attach to what you are not.
It is morning. You get up and go into the bathroom. You and yourself. One is holding a toothbrush in his hand, the other is holding an illusion in his head. Life is all about the relationship you have with yourself. You look into the mirror but all you’ll ever see there is a reflection of the words you decided to wrap around your body and being.
The bathroom is a good place to wash off the pollution of other people’s pronouncements. It is a place to come clean, to strip yourself down to nothing. Scrub off the things that pretend to be glued to you. Wash away the torturous words you thought were tied so tight. You say you want to come into the present moment. Well, come open-handed, open-minded, open-hearted. Come open and empty. Spick and span.
Next to my reflection in the mirror I trace the word branded on me by others (with my consent). Stupid, ugly, failure, fat, whatever. But both vanish into the white steamy bathroom air.
The me in the mirror is a mirage. The me looking into the mirror has no reflection, casts no shadow, leaves no footprints.
The present moment is your presence. Be present and you will be home.