June 4, 2023•313 words
Went out to meditate at the park this morning. It was early so there were only a few others there, most with their dogs. It was sunny, cool and peaceful. The dogs were giving off such a relaxed playfulness. Or maybe it's just that I was relaxed watching them. It was so quiet. I found myself realizing, or at least feeling, that I'm in heaven. Looking around, seeing flowers in bloom and people chatting while the dogs played. It was serene, but so mundane that there's hardly anything to say about it.
Normally the mind is preoccupied with what needs to be done or acquired. This constant sense of underlying tension and urgency. But what more is there that really has to be done? What more has to be accomplished beyond having enough and enjoying the rest?
I had the thought the other day, and maybe it's premature, that the part of my life for being in hell is ending and that I'm moving into a time when I get to enjoy heaven, like a sort of gradual transitioning out of one realm and into another. That it could happen slowly in a way, with my experience/consciousness continuing to flicker between them for a while. But little by little, everything lightening. Lighter and lighter. That's how it felt anyways, in that moment.
It's funny, because on paper my life probably looks worse than ever. And sometimes it can feel that way. And then there are moments like this. Pure appreciation and serenity, like I'd never felt before. Like I'm floating on my back in a warm pool, only nothing special is happening. I'm just there, looking.
There is something in the back of my mind that's waiting for the other shoe to drop. For things to seem hellish again. Maybe it will. Still, I'm grateful to have glimpsed some heaven in this life.