I live on a busy street. It has been busy the ten years I have lived here, but its grown so rapidly in the last two years that it no longer resembles "my street." That's change. It happens. What I am keen to in this moment, as I write these words on this cyber page, is how the sound of rushing cars is so that I am moved to a cabin on the coast where the waves crash onto the shore. These knowings have interchanged. I can rest in either one or neither.
What is true is where we place our attention. And the discernments of that choice follow quickly. What if we don't choose to give our attention to some thing? What happens then? When I try this strange, seemingly counter-intutitive practice, it can feel like a mind-malfunction. The mind struggling to find a resting place is not a pretty sight. It gets tired and cranky very easily. But, what if I don't let it rest? What if I don't allow my mind to give attention to any one thing? At least for a little while. What happens then?
I can hear waves where once there was traffic. Traffic that could easily trap my mind in a loop of judgement, entitlement and annoyance (and it has, many, many, many times). But... in this surrender, there are majestic waves or the sound of the wind fluttering through a hawk's wings as she soars high above the Earth. What ever it is, it is peaceful. Unlike the feeling I get when I focus my attention on the traffic and the historical and predictive stories I can tell myself about that traffic.
So... I listen, without setting my mind on anything, and the world transforms.