Jean Cocteau once said, "The moment is the only thing that counts." What in this now moment is calling, is beckoning, to us? This moment is always the moment in which we can have our breakthrough, our realization, our insight. There's always a choice in how we spend our now moments. We can refuse the moment, let it pass into a vague dream of the future or a regret of the past, or we can boldly, fearlessly enter this moment and allow it to reveal its hidden discovery to us. Jean-Paul Sartre once wrote, "We live in the past or the future to escape the brutal reality of the present." But the present only seems brutal when we are resisting whatever is trying to reach out to us in the present. When we let go to this present moment now, we find ourselves coming into agreement with what is actually happening both within ourselves and within our lives. Let's decide to live in this moment and let it reveal to us its hidden splendor. 

Picasso said, "It takes a very long time to become young," meaning that we each have to go through a gradual process of learning to be innocent. It is not the sophisticated cynic who is deeply in touch with the heart of life; it is the person who has come into a child-like receptivity and openness to the beauty and goodness of this world. We can become so cultivated and entrenched in opinions and viewpoints that we miss this gift of simple openness. If we are too artificial, we miss the genuine and natural in life. If we are too detached and analytic, it's difficult for us to find the place of the heart. Let's surrender ourselves to an innocence that sees this life with eyes fresh, young, open and sensitive. 
As William Blake says: "To see the world in a grain of sand And Heaven in a Wild Flower Hold infinity in the palm of your hand And eternity in an hour." 

When we reverse a pair of binoculars by looking through them from the wrong end, even things that were close appear far away. When we turn the binoculars around and look through the correct focus, things are seen clearly in all their immediacy. Sometimes in our life, our vision of people and things is distorted, and we are seeing as if through reverse binocular lenses— everything looks distant and out of focus. When this is happening, it may look to us as if people and situations we are seeing are being aloof and distant from us— but it may just be our own viewpoint which needs to change. A woman was remarking to a friend how streaked and dirty her neighbor's laundry was. The friend pointed out, "It's not her laundry that is dirty, it is your window." When we clear our vision, it's surprising how many problems and obstacles melt away and how that which seemed so far from us becomes close at hand, warm and friendly. As Blake said, "When the doors of perception are cleansed, everything appears as it is— infinite." And, we might add, close, warm and friendly. 

Dylan Thomas, the poet, once said, "Somebody's boring me...I think it's me." Sometimes we feel, both inwardly and outwardly, that we are continually confronting resistances. And our solution to resistance can be like that of the horse in George Orwell's book, Animal Farm. When conditions seem to be deteriorating around him, the horse's response is always, "I will work harder." Yet in trying to overcome resistance by working harder, we find that we may just be digging our hole deeper. Someone once said that a problem can never be solved on the same level of consciousness on which it exists. Einstein said, more simply and elegantly, "To solve a problem, go to where the problem is not." We overcome resistance neither by fighting it nor by repressing it, but by discovering another way of being right in the midst of it. As David Carradine once wrote, "There's always a third way, and it's not a combination of the other two ways. It's a different way." The way to overcome resistance, either inner or outer, is to find the third way, the way that releases us to our freedom. Discover your way. 

Idries Shah cites this Sufi saying: "He who has made a door and a lock, has also made a key." At times we have all made a door and a lock, a mental image that locks someone up in our mind. We have all held someone in our mind in such a way that we can't imagine her or him being different from the view we hold. We all know the door and the lock; perhaps we also need to remember the key: we can "set the prisoners free" of our mental image of them. We don't need to hold anyone in the bondage of our mind. Anyone we are troubled by because "he won't change" we can release from our mental construct. When we set the people in our lives free from our images and expectations of them, we feel a tremendous sense of release and relief and realize what a heavy burden we have been carrying. People really do very well once we release them from the pressure (conscious or subconscious) of our expectations. Set everyone free now, and notice how good you will feel. 

Sometimes we get too comfortable in our arrival. We can be resting too long on our laurels and discover that we are stuck in complacency. Then it's time to redecide to deepen our inner commitment to our spiritual journey. There's a great difference between reaching the point of just coping with our lives and of deciding to allow ourselves to be transformed. Spiritual transformation means that we can catch on fire with a new feeling of energy and wonder and joy within us. All of our relationships begin to change. We suddenly feel excited and empowered as each day we awaken to a dawn of new and creative possibilities. And as we are changed and transformed, so is our world transformed; peace replaces strife, sorrow dissolves into joy and doubt melts into certainty. 

There is a Hasidic story about two young spiritual aspirants who are having an argument about the true path of spiritual unfoldment. One student argues that the path consists of struggle and strenuous effort to overcome one's human defects. The other student says, "No, the path is one of surrender, release and letting go." Unable to resolve their differences, they bring the matter to their spiritual teacher. The first student says, "Isn't the path one of struggle and persistence?" The teacher says, "You're right." "But Rabbi," says the second student, "isn't the path the way of surrender?" "You're right," says the teacher. An onlooker says, "But Rabbi, they both can't be right." "You're right, too," says the teacher. There's a point where we quit arguing with our life and come into agreement with all things. We discover that each is right at the level of his understanding. We really don't have to waste time and energy trying to convince others of our truth— instead, we can affirm their truth as true for them and our truth as true for us. 

Many times we really want to let go of a situation or a way we're feeling about ourselves, but we just can't seem to do it. Perhaps we can't let go because we are still clinging to our concern about the outcome. If we let go completely of something, what will happen? What will happen to me? Will I win? What if I lose? What if I don't get anything out of it? What if I let go, and then nothing else comes along for me? Letting go implies a kind of trust that life will take care of us, that we won't be abandoned or forsaken. It's the same kind of trust we have that when we go to sleep at night, and we let go to sleep, we'll be taken care of, and we will awaken in the morning. We trust that as we walk along this earth, we won't fall off. We trust that the air we breathe and food we eat will support and sustain and nourish us. So why not let go and trust that this life is our friend and is always there for us? 

A paradigm is a new way of perceiving reality. Whenever something comes along in our lives which alters the way we see things or do things, we are experiencing a paradigm shift. For instance, many of us now have TiVos or other devices that allow us to record programs which we can then see whenever we want. Most people also have cell phones which allow us to transact our business while outside the house or office. It's interesting that these paradigm breakthroughs in technology all alter the way we experience time. We don't have to wait at home for a phone call or to watch a certain TV program— we have creative options available which give us choices as to how we will manage our time. As great and significant as these outer paradigm shifts are, there is an even greater paradigm shift that can occur within each of us. We can have an inner awakening that profoundly changes our perception of reality by opening our heart to the oneness of all life. 

When we get too accustomed to our everyday life, we need a surprise of some kind to give us a feeling of happy wonder at the sheer fact of just being alive. When we feel like we know everything that is going to happen today, our life becomes too certain of itself. It's like knowing the conclusion of a mystery movie long before we reach the end. We become bored and disenchanted when we know too much about the outcome— that's why the director creates a surprise ending. So with our day. If we anticipate how it is all going to go for us, we have already made up our minds: everything is predictable— we know that we know that we know— it all. There is a weariness that comes from too much calculation. It's better to be open to the unexpected windfall, the happy surprise, filling our day with joyous anticipation of the new. 

A coffee store owner once said, "Coffee is my religion," meaning that he had such total dedication to his profession, he put so much of himself into it, that, for him, it was like a spiritual calling. We think of David, who danced before the Ark of the Covenant "with all his might" to show his love of God. What we do with our whole heart, our total being, there is how we express our religion, our deepest spiritual perception and understanding. Idries Shah tells the story of a meatball seller who, when he saw a great spiritual sage take a bite from a meatball, fainted and fell to the ground on the spot. When he was revived and asked what had happened, he said that he had been selling meatballs and watching people eat them for thirty years. He could tell the manner of the person's inner nature by how he eats a meatball. When he saw that man take a bite from the meatball, he was overcome with spiritual ecstasy. Never had he seen such spiritual perfection in the eating of a meatball. What you do reflects who you are -- do it with excellence. 

Why not let ourselves be awakened in our hearts this Easter season. Sometimes we go along mechanically, one day to the next, without even noticing the changes in the season. Everything around us is vibrant and pulsating with new life. We too can have an inner renewal right now. This is a perfect time for our hearts to come alive in a new and unexpected and joyous way. This Easter, as we celebrate religious renewal, let's also celebrate and affirm a personal sense of renewal from way down deep inside of ourselves. We are, after all, children of this life. As nature undergoes a profound and dramatic transformation from winter to spring, so too do each of us undergo a similarly profound inner transformation. All the beauty of spring in nature exists in our hearts; let's have a joyous heart awakening to the real, the good, the beautiful and the true this Easter season. 

Mark Strand once wrote, "Each moment is a place you've never been." We might also say that you are a gift to this moment, a gift that this moment is happy to receive. We tend too often to think of time as something we have to anxiously work our way through. But it may come as a happy surprise for us to think of this moment, right now, as a friend who is glad to receive us. This moment invites us into itself— it has the secret of eternity to share with us. There is nothing but this moment— the past is a memory, the future, a dream. As T.S. Eliot says, "All is always now." We don't have to resist this moment; we don't have to struggle through it; we can relax into it and be happy to receive the good that this moment is bringing to each of us. It may be the sunlight, or the beauty of a tree or a cloud formation, or it may just be a tiny thought like, "I'm here in this universe right now, and it's okay, and I'm okay, too." 

When we take a bit of time each day to relax, turn within ourselves and get quiet, release the thoughts and feelings and cares of our day, we experience a kind of instantaneous renewal. Meditation practice— even in short spurts of time is like a small joy, a tiny happiness. As we continue to meditate daily, we find that we are slowly but surely building an inner reservoir of spiritual strength and integrity. Meditation is sometimes defined as the center we find within ourselves. And indeed, as we stay with the process and let it gently unfold in us and through us, we discover this point of calm at the center of our being. To this center of stability and peace we return over and over again as we stay with our meditation practice throughout the years. And we finally begin to see, as this center within us deepens into greater peace, warmth, love and clarity, that this is who we really are. It isn't just that we meditate; we are the meditation itself, and we realize that this center we have discovered deep within ourselves connects us to God and to all life everywhere. We find our oneness with the universe and the meaning of our lives in such a simple act of just relaxing, sitting still and letting go. Meditation brings us home to who we are and to where we belong in this world. 

An architect was once asked to design an all-glass building on land that was within an earthquake zone. The architect responded that such a project was impossible. The person who commissioned the building asked the architect to look the word impossible up in his dictionary. The architect found that the word had been cut out of the dictionary. And he went off and designed and built the building. Sometimes we need to redefine what is possible for us. Too often we set mental limits on our capacities for achievement. Perhaps we really are in life to achieve something great, something that only we can do. And something that, if we don't do it, will never get done. Robert Kennedy said, "Those who dare to fail miserably can achieve greatly." Let's not be so afraid of failing that we never take the risk to succeed. Let's give this life our own unique gift and let it prosper us. 
 

We've all experienced loss in this life— relationship, job, financial setback or even an inner sense of loss. Someone once said, "Things are so tough, it's hard to keep up with the losers." We've all been losers in one way or another. It's interesting to note Evelyn Underhill's statement that, when it comes to spiritual matters, the "loser always wins." Underhill says that on the spiritual path "he with the worst hand wins." Losing forces us to deepen our perspective on what's happening. There comes a point in our life when the notion of winning or losing itself ceases to be so important. We do what we do in life for the sheer joy of the doing of it— our reward is simply a happy by-product, and criticism ceases to annoy us. It's hard to imagine Van Gogh, Picasso, Dostoyevski or Mozart caring too much about the outcome of their genius. They simply gave themselves up to what they did. When we feel we are losing out in some way, perhaps we just need to see our situation from a new and different perspective. What looks like loss from one point of view may in fact be great gain from another. 

In Paul Reps' Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, there is a story about a philosopher who once asked the Buddha, "Without words, without the wordless, can you tell me the truth?" The Buddha remained silent. The philosopher bowed and said, "With your loving kindness I have cleared my delusions and entered the true path." After the philosopher had gone, one of Buddha's disciples asked him, "What has the philosopher attained?" The Buddha replied, "A good horse runs at even the shadow of a whip." The true path, the right way for us to be in this life, is always at the point of dawning in our minds and hearts; the readiness is all that is necessary. Sometimes we read a word or a phrase in a book, or we hear someone utter a sentence or we silently gaze at a sunrise or the snowfall captures our heart, and suddenly we are, in that moment, transformed and nothing is the same ever again. C.S. Lewis was casually looking at an old beat-up book in a used bookstall one Saturday morning in London; as he started reading the book, he suddenly felt a spiritual awakening— in that instant he experienced a new dimension of being in which his whole way of life was transformed. 

Often we think that the way to fulfillment in life is by pushing our way through, grabbing our share before someone else beats us to it. Yet forcing our will on people and situations tends to be exhausting and doesn't seem to give us harmony or peace. Is there another way for us to find contentment in life without struggle, force or turmoil? Someone once said, "The more I let go, the more I receive from life." Perhaps each of us comes to discover that as we quit fighting for things, things come to us— as we release people, people come ever closer to us. A clenched fist does not bring happiness to our hearts. We can let go right now of all the conflicts, all the stresses and strains in our life and be open to receive the insights and solutions that are the harbingers of peace and fulfillment. Just let it be. 

This is the time of year when people celebrate Jewish Passover. One of the meanings of Passover is to pass over or pass out of bondage. Certainly Passover is a celebration of freedom from bondage. As the Israelites were fleeing Egypt, the place of their captivity, the Egyptians began to pursue them. When the Israelites saw that they were being pursued by the Egyptians, they became terrified. When we have even a small beginning of freedom, we look back on our former bondage in terror— never again will we allow ourselves to be enslaved. There's a Jewish tradition that when the Israelites reached the Red Sea, the waters didn't part until one brave person leaped into the water and started swimming. When we are being pursued by that which would hold us in bondage, and we come to a seemingly impassable obstacle in our path to freedom, we too, like that one brave person, must take a leap of faith until the waters of impossibility part, and we are released into freedom. 

There's an East Indian parable about a man who is running through a jungle being chased by a lion; whenever he looks back to see if it is still there, the lion is always right there just about to get him. The story suggests our own state when we are constantly looking backwards to see if something we tried to free ourselves from is still there. At some point in our life, we realize that the way to freedom is to quit looking back. We look back to make sure we are really free. But freedom comes when we boldly step forward into the new without needing to make sure or to know in advance how things will work out for us. Freedom is going forward anyway, regardless of the past or the future. A friend of mine used to say that when you are being chased by a posse, pretend that you're leading a parade. Let's decide to go forward into our freedom.