What is happening?
What is happening? This is the first question of existence. There is a recognition, a knowing of what’s happening. A flower is blooming. A sun is rising. The train is leaving. These are descriptions of what’s happening. Yet, what’s happening doesn’t need to be described. It is utterly simple when descriptions are dropped, and descriptions are also simply seen as what’s happening. The convolutions, complications, complexities of life, the travails, the struggles, the assertions and opinions and the battles for what’s right, the longing for some clarity of life, are all the consequence of naming, recognizing, and giving importance to what’s happening. Without giving it any importance, which means giving nothing, absolutely nothing, any importance, what’s happening is simple, serene, free.
The mind or the heart might long for contentment, bliss, peace. It is rather the longing that directs the mind to search, that creates the disturbance of finding and losing, and that search overlooks the simplicity of what’s happening. What’s happening, because it is simple, is peace. Because it needs nothing, since what’s happening looks for nothing, it is already content. What’s happening is already in bliss, in love, because it is simply and freely being.
This is the treasure that already is, and by being overlooked, it is never found. The divine gift, the present, the liberation from sorrow and suffering and seeking, is so stunningly always accessible. It is like the air, like the all-encompassing space of the universe. It is the very ground of existence.
Cover photo by Aman Upadhyay on Unsplash
