Cosmic Confidence

I’m having a fascinating morning. I haven’t had the TV on or music playing. Just pure silence today. It’s been snowing all morning and everything is white and grey outside. A few times in this now I’ve glimpsed briefly through life’s complications to the simplicity of “solutions” beyond them. I can’t explain it any better than to call it a sort of “cosmic confidence.” A sense of seeing our everyday complications as mere distractions that keep us from feeling that deeper simplicity which feels like not THE answer but AN answer. A doorway through which I can feel contentedness, a very deep harmony or serenity waiting to be accepted. Everything for that brief moment falls into place where it all makes sense and I can feel accomplishment and fulfilment. Friendships, the act of not caring what others think, turning away from unconstructive thinking, etc, etc, etc all just seems to “fit” and I can understand the much larger picture in a forest for the trees way. It’s all right there in front of all of us. We just need to learn how to look.

Kensho, Satori, Working Out, and Oneness

Kensho, sometimes interchanged with the concept satori is generally defined as an insight or awakening. A glimpse into deeper understanding. I like to think of it as a flash of epiphany or "oneness". A connection to a deeper cosmic harmony. I was at the gym this morning listening to "A Stream With Bright Fish" from the album "The Pearl". I've been doing what I call "mindful workouts" lately. Totally focused on the rep and the connection between mind and muscle being worked. Slow, deeply focused repetitions. Not sloppy form, but form that really gets deep into the muscle. As I finished one set and that song was playing I looked out the window at the clouds floating by. In that flash of an instant everything was in synch. The floating clouds, the music, my workout, and my presence. It was all a brief nanosecond of profound harmony and sense of belonging with everything.

It was a great and profoundly serene moment. Everything around me fell away and it's just me in tandem with everything I mentioned.

I've had this experience two other times in my life. They were much deeper and profound than this one, which is not to minimize or take away from the one this morning. The one I had as a teenager I was walking off the football practice field. I literally, for a nanosecond, "felt" the Milky Way. I could see it from the outside. I could feel its rhythms and felt as if I was in all places at the same time.

In relating this to my friend Dan thinking it sounded a bit crazy. He commented, "It doesn't sound crazy at all. I have had two, one on a the lawn I have 5, and another in my grandmother's house when I was about 20. I was alone, looking at a fan rotate."

The sensation almost defies words when it happens. Mine have always been just a second or two. But within those few seconds is a vast expanse of time, I sense. My friend Dan says he sustained his for several minutes, and I told him I wished I could learn to sustain mine for that length of time. But I got to thinking, maybe I'm not supposed to sustain it. Maybe it's fleeting for a reason. A taste, so to speak, of the larger harmonies.