Delighted yesterday to see this memory on FB yesterday: a video I made on my first arrival in the town where we have returned and now live, four years later - to the day.
A great metaphor too, in this simple meditative process...
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, remembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
—T.S. Eliot, from “Little Gidding,” Four Quartets (Gardners Books; Main edition, April 30, 2001) Originally published 1943.”
Strangely too, I was 'taught' this poem as a schoolboy, and now returning to it, 'knowing' it deeper - seeing within it something more profound- as if for the first time (-:
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So see if you can, as you rinse and repeat this technique, something, yourself even, in a new moment...
Sit still.
Breathe.
In.
Out.
And onward, inward, as all thought arises.
Back to the breath.
Back to being.
Back to LIFE.
"And know the place for the first time."
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