On a cool spring evening twilight after the first warm day of spring, I look out the front window and there I see my garden chair alone, quiet facing the now non-existent rays of the Sun. I was there earlier, in the warm part of the day; with my shirt off, blessing my skin with some vitamin D. I’m now standing at the window looking at the lonely chair; I could sit in the chair, but I’m inside feeling the effects of the Sun warming my cheeks. It seems to me now that it wasn’t me there earlier, how could it have been – the chair is empty and the Sun is gone?
Today I read, for the mega-millionth time, that the Buddha said life and experience are illusory. I’m sure that for as many times that I’ve read this notion, I have logged a different interpretation. Last night I stood next to my bed and realized I was separate from the person who all week had written, edited, taught and surfed. All those things – didn’t matter, don’t matter. It can be disheartening to put incredible amounts of energy into something, only to realize – that one hadn’t really done anything at all.
In that moment by my bed, I was rendered unable to get into bed or explain to Amanda exactly what it was I was experiencing – I was momentarily and slightly catatonic, I was depressed. In almost the same moment, I realized how liberating this epiphany could be. For, this meant that the author of my future works will be working and completing while I’m away and present at the same moment. I will be in two places at once. But, now I’m left in a quandary.