Stasis on Demand.

I breathe in,

I breathe out,

Only I can liberate "me",

I return to myself to be free.

I scribbled out this note/poem in the fire truck today during one of the many occasions in which I was fortunate enough to be stuck in traffic on a miraculously beautiful day. This note exists in stark contrast when I reflect upon my ways of thinking as a teenager. At some point as a teenager I felt it incumbent to over complicate life. This trend persisted into my early 20s and surely these tendencies are reanimated even these days from time to time. I can recall days spent recklessly engaging in whatever philosophical resource that was made available and sparring with Tony in a friendly and challenging way.

Tony and I would address a belief, tear it down, reconstruct it to gain perspective, and ultimately decide it wasn't likely a very important subject anyway. Many times Tony and I were cynical, occasionally obsessive, but nearly always goofy. To this day I am still goofy, and Tony is too, but I find solace in simplicity whereas my past self thrived upon complexity.

Complexity was a novelty, in hindsight, because I became so entrenched in my cerebral ways that I began having trouble comprehending the very simple and beautiful aspects of life: sun peaking through the clouds, dew-coated morning lawns, a stranger on a bicycle, the relief of a cold drink of water. No more. Ever since my engagement with Buddhism I've found it easier and easier to retreat to the present moment. Thich Nhat Hanh had written in one of his many Buddhist works, 'Birds are chirping outside. I hear you bird. I hear you talking to me. I am here [in the present].' He called this a mindfulness cue.

For those unfamiliar: Buddhism is rooted firmly in the present moment. Moments spent dwelling on the past or fearing for the future are wasted moments, as the only significant moment that ever happened is the present one. Truly, it does no good to allow your mind to exist elsewhere. So often we are seeking refuge in a distraction: the internet, the TV, a video game, our smart phones. I am very guilty of this. Mindfulness cues allows me to break this cyclical behavior. Though I have been indoctrinated by consumer culture and the technological ephemera ever-present, I have the ability to rescue myself from these time traps.

When I observe myself becoming sad, depressed, down, or in a funk, I can usually trace it back to a relinquishment of good, nurturing habits and an acquisition of poor habits. Perhaps I put down my books and pick up the video game controller. Or I stop running or cycling and begin languishing in the vacuous internet void. And then I remain consistently poor with my habits. Sadness takes the reigns and I am perplexed as to why. Luckily as I have aged, I've become much more adept at recognizing when bad habits are surfacing and I buffer them out with good habits. This usually begins with realigning my thoughts with the present. I do so by observing my breathing, feeling the ambient temperature of what ever environment I may be in, feeling the texture of my clothing fabric resting against my body, feeling the warmth of my beating heart. After I have inventoried all of these systems, I continue to feel that heart-warmth, and often find a smile, which seems effortless and native, curling at my lips.

This has been a very powerful tool. It is stasis on demand, and it has guided me through treacherous moments on the job as well as the perils of the mundane when I am not at work. Perhaps it may benefit others as well. You do not have to be Buddhist to enjoy the philosophical advances it has yielded to humankind. Contrarily, many Buddhists would tell you that Buddhism is not a religion in the first place - and it certainly doesn't require membership tin order to employ the lessons it teaches!

I breathe in,

I breathe out,

Only I can liberate "me",

I return to myself to be free.

Reflect deeply upon the words, and you may find relevance within them as well.