even the old is new

as past impressions fade, even the old is new. and the new remains as new, even as i revisit it daily. i feel as though i had slipped into a deep and self-propelling coma, numb to my innate connection with this universe. i am infinitely grateful that this sleep cycle was broken. life is blessed with meaning. and the loose ends are slowly being tied. the steady production of loose ends is also on the decline.

yesterday, i taught myself to cook. not anything major - only pasta. it involved several 'firsts' though - discovering the pots and pans in my kitchen, using all the (3 of 4, actually) burners of my cooking range, learning to boil pasta and discovering that the pot was too small and there wasn't enough water so some of the pasta would stick to the sides, learning to boil vegetables in the microwave and either under-doing it or over-doing it, figuring out when the spices go in and what spices go in, realizing there was too much salt and resorting to milk for damage control, trying to time the ingredients right, and so on. every step felt like a new experiment, bringing with it a new discovery, and in the end, imagine my happiness to find that my first cooking experience had resulted in something edible. gosh. (there was no chopping, no sauteing, no overwhelmingly indian aromas this time. i will get there too.)

and as i cooked, i also relearned the act of putting a cd into my cd player and listening to its music, inhaling the euphoria it so graciously lent to the occasion. something in me (that i cannot find a name for) found its way out. and i came out of the experience fully intact, more fully than before even. that feeling of being enveloped in music is special. there is definitely something to the connection between music and the human soul.

another first was the visit to the grocery store. instead of rushing to get what i needed so i could get out of there as quickly as possible, i strolled through every aisle, thinking about everything that my apartment needed. of course, i willingly spent more in the bargain, indulging myself with purchases of mint-flavored dental floss, toothbrushes, a sea-blue method hand-soap, special k cereal, a large crate of clementines, a box of swiffers, whole-wheat with flax bread, and more mundanities. safeway was so loud that i could blissfully hum to myself the entire time without anyone being able to hear. to cut a long story short, i can't recall when grocery shopping was ever such a pleasurable experience.

and even the new... months ago, my eyes had first opened themselves to the meditative joy of walking to school and back. this joy remains intact. and this makes me wonder - perhaps what i'm really trying to say is that every day feels like a new day, bringing with it new lessons, new opportunities to offer for new successes, and new kindnesses to share. the walking route may be old, but the experiences are new. just as i've cooked pasta many, many times before, but the experience feels new.

although i can't be certain, i sense that much of this peace stems from my effort to 'see things as they are' this month, as i learn to distance myself from opinion and judgment, longing and aversion. as the poem i recently posted says -

When you cling to a hairbreadth of distinction,
heaven and earth are set apart.

seeing things 'as they are' is also to see them in the light of their oneness of being. the distinction is only in the mind, manifesting itself in the form of just those opinions and judgments, longings and aversions. selection and rejection only keeps us from true perception.

In the world of things as they are,
there is no self, no non self.