I just arrived back to Halle, Germany. I am finding that since I came back from spending a few days at Tisarana Monastery in Perth, Ontario, I have had difficulty in talking. I seem to be struggling to put words together in communicating what is occurring. There seems to be too much energy required to do so as the realization that what I am saying is just a story as is the me that I use to focus on in the telling of the story. As I write to a friend to express my experience a story develops. But I know it is a story as is the I that is used to express anything that I do.
How I act and what unfolds as action is not planned. It appears to me to be quite unconnected to a plan or intention. When I am conscious of acting from a plan it seems to be quite devoid of passion or life. Never the less what I do can easily be perceived by others to be motivated by some thought out plan. But it is not in my experience as such. There is nothing of intention about it. Reflecting back on it, it could be said and perceived that the action can even seem to be foolish or an aspect of some weakness and/or unthinking or unfeeling that I lack. And so that may be, but I have a sense that it could be better said that it involves a different experience of being and emoting. Often it does not meet the efficient and logical criteria of a plan. The thing that I am realizing more than ever is that it is from a more authentic place than I have ever known. And that seems to be worth attending to as anything else that has ever influenced me in my life.