The way one feels when swimming laps, almost done, strokes getting sloppy, breath getting more and more ragged:
eyes rhythmically shifting from the peaceful underwater where cellulite-laden thighs and bellies float with the grace of jellyfish; alternating with:
the harsh chlorine vapor and fluorescent lighting, the sight of pale flesh kowtowing and vibrating to the pull of gravity, the bored lifegaurds turning their acne-pocked faces back and forth and blowing whistles at children who keep bursting into a run:
the feeling of being the graceful underwater organism and the heaviness of the arm heaving up for another stroke: all if it jumbled into a crazy collage of sensation, smell, sound, and effort:
and the sound! the fury! all of it going by so fast!
And in it are you lost in your thoughts, projecting your mind into the next 10 minutes (you'll be in the shower), the next hour (you'll be home having dinner), the next week (you'll finally get to see that movie everyone's been raving about), the next year (maybe you'll finally get out of this dead-end job you've been in for so long and do something real with your life?)
I realized quite recently, after about 15 years of studying yoga and several years of teaching it to others, that although I thought I knew what it meant to Be Present, I had actually been faking it. I had been adopting the posture and the demeanor of someone who Knows How to Be Present.
~Spirituality & Health
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