Awareness

I felt restless again today, as I often do before a major change. I looked up and saw it was already after five, then hurried to write this post. Even so, I am pleased with the day: I finished more than planned and laid groundwork for what comes next.

I have reached a more poetic part of my Bible reading, yet I kept putting the book down. My mind was on other things. A podcast I heard yesterday offered a question to try on my anxiety: Is the future I imagine really as frightening as I think? Is that challenge certain? What happens if I reverse the way I look at it?

I tried answering honestly. The challenge exists, but the fear I had built around it was larger than the challenge itself. At first I wanted to retreat. Then I pictured the same event as an interesting experience to learn from. The fear eased, and I even felt glad to meet it.

Which was the real me: the frightened one or the glad one? Perhaps both were passing states. The part of me able to notice each state felt steadier. I could say, “I notice fear arising,” instead of “I am fear.” That small change gave me room to act.

I picture the observer as the sky and emotions as clouds. Dark and light clouds come and go; the sky is still there. One moment of awareness is not a permanent awakening. If I can practice it in everyday life, perhaps I will spend less energy fighting anxiety and more on the work before me. As the Zen saying goes, before enlightenment, chop wood and carry water; after enlightenment, chop wood and carry water.

I heard another thought yesterday: joy and sorrow, comfort and hardship, come in pairs. Whatever name I give that pattern, I want to remember to observe my reactions when the next difficult day comes.