“Impermanent record,” occurred to me as a vague notion. When I mentioned it to Annyth, she suggested that I do a cartoon, and the notion remained a velleity until now.

The title of this post can be attributed to the late Dr. Owen Dukelow, Professor of Philosophy at Washington and Jefferson College. As an undergrad in the mid to late 1970s I took a couple of his classes. I also worked in the college library all four years, and Professor Dukelow would show up now and then and place a stack of his newsletters/bulletins on the front desk for people to take away and read for free. The informal series was entitled, Pardon Me, My Mind Was Wandering. I remember finding his short essays amusing, but I wasn’t mature enough to recognize the themes of equanimity and impermanence. I do now, at least to some extent.
Tag Archives: meditation
non-dualistic saturation
Back when I was in high school in the early 1970s I bought a book on meditation for some unknown reason. In bed that night I started skimming the book, reading a few pages here and there. I randomly found an exercise instructing me to pay attention to sights and sounds. So I put down the book and looked out the screened window at a street light on a telephone pole located about halfway between my window and the small, fence-making factory just beyond the alley, the row of houses, and the railroad tracks behind our house. For a brief moment my very own view shed and sound shed seemed unfamiliar to me. I noticed the constant factory noise, which I had learned how to ignore long before. Guests and visitors would ask us how we put up with that noise, and we’d say, what noise? I heard it that night. Then there was the street light. I noticed that from my bed I could see the light, and if i relaxed my eyes, I could see the mesh of the screen against a blurry but bright backdrop. I remember alternating between either seeing the street light or seeing the screen mesh, but I couldn’t see them both clearly at the same time; except for that one fleeting moment in which I either saw them both at the same time or imagined seeing them both at the same time. By this time I was coming to, returning to my regularly scheduled programs. I closed the book thinking to myself, well that went nowhere. I set the book aside along with the others on different subjects that I had left unfinished. Funny, isn’t it? I think I was momentarily meditating from the inside out and outside in, and I didn’t even know it; but, how come I remember it? I think I accidentally bumped into now then.
Exceptionalism

Venn Buddhism
The self back there…
See other related butt-on-mat posts H-E-R-E, scroll on and on, there’re quite a few!
Surfacing
Here’s a digital image for you, one I’m calling, “Surfacing.” It’s not a very Christmas-like image…at first glance; however, there is “divine birth” dimension. Where? How? WTF?
As a beginner in the practice of meditation, mindfulness, and yoga, I’ve discovered something about the content of my own attention and the breadth of its span. Most of what I pay attention to has nothing to do with the actual spatial and temporal dimensions of the situations that I inhabit; and my five senses usually just go along for the ride throughout the day. That’s another way of saying that I’m rarely “in the moment.” Most of the time my mind is automatically wandering and dragging around clusters of feelings that reside in my muscles’ memories. I’m basically flying around and around in a bird cage whose little door is wide open but somehow hidden from my view.
I ruminate, therefore I am; and my rumination is my ruination. All of that highly-evolved cognitive activity that we call thinking, so necessary for our survival as a species, keeps us alive and incarcerated by decommissioning our senses. If we can’t see the open door, we won’t fly away. We’re taught to fear freedom by our own trauma. The curriculum for this self destruction is saturated in our flesh and bones; at the collective level it’s encoded in our enculturation and socialization processes to keep the entire flock from flying away.
Sometimes when I’m on my cushion, my mat, or my iPad Pro, I lean into an arbitrary assignment automatically delivered to me by this mostly destructive curriculum. I do so because I’ve learned that avoiding or denying them nourishes them. I’ve learned that leaning in requires an effort, takes practice, and yields dividends. I wonder if it’s a sin to vacate the Present Moment?
“Surfacing” is the result of one of these leaning into’s. Yesterday I managed to notice the compulsive appearance of one of these arbitrary assignments as it surfaced. Rather than repressing it and the scary feelings accompanying it, I entertained it momentarily before it disappeared. It grabbed the tissues of the moment I inhabited and the body I inhabit. It seemed real. With its sharp claws it tugged at and stretched the membrane of the living moment encapsulating me…until…poof!
By the time I noticed exhaling, it was gone, Merry Christmas, and another assignment had arrived.
Shop-Vac
Image
Ofie…and Yoga
Back in March of 2014 I illustroblogged about Ofelia or Ofie, click here for that; but, I thought I’d take another, rough stab at sketching her – from a grainy photo I snapped with my iPhone after practice one day – since she’s played such a pivotal role in my breathing, movement, and core in the last 3 1/2 years.
I’ve posted more than 30 digital drawings, paintings, and cartoons about being a beginner yogi, going back to the first months of portfoliolongo. If you’re so inclined, and willing to click on “older posts” several times at the bottom of the webpages, please click here to see all posts tagged “yoga.” Some are more serious than others, but I take my practice very seriously.
Please feel free to leave a comment if you have something to say about yoga or anything related to breathing in the living moment.






