Something You Didn’t Know You Wanted(Unfinished)
Interbeing - A state of connectedness and interdependence of all phenomena.
I landed in San Antonio one lunar cycle ago. The plane wheels screamed as the aircraft touched the flat Texas landscape. All I could see were lights, buildings, the intermittent tree and no mountains. I could see no mountains, no rivers, no bays, I could see cars passing and people moving. I could see neighborhoods and wide multistory structures. The abundant flickering of multicolored lights wrapped around tree limbs and along roof edges. I was back home or rather what felt like a pseudo home. In location, yes this was my home but I hadn't yet found home in this place.
Since landing, planting my body in the midst of the constant background sound of cars roaring down streets and the light polluted night sky, I realized I was truly somewhere else. I was stepping into a place that didn't lack nature, trees, animals, a neighborhood smile, kind daily gestures, or even streams and bodies of water but stepping into a place where people barely noticed them. The distractions, the movement, the busyness has never supported our desire for the patient and gentle attention that we need to notice the unique moments of connection that we could have with the life that surrounds us.
I reflect back on the beginnings of my meditation journey. Four years ago, witnessing my grandmother’s passing, healing residual and lingering guilt, I worked in a sandwich shop prepping meat in the mornings. At the time, I was reading a book called Everyday Tao that taught me how to process the inner workings of my brain, the voices and the sad stories they were telling that I gradually realized I was affirming myself with. The repetition, grab, weigh, wrap ,place and repeat, aided the almost computational processing of forgiveness, letting go and unlearning. How mundane this routine was but it was the start that led me to opening space to notice the life around me and my connection to it.
Later, still in San Antonio, I constructed a morning routine that supported this journey. The routine went: wake up, climb out of the tent into my carpeted empty apartment room, stretch my limbs and joints out, enjoy a short silent meditation and indulge in a neighborhood walk. On my walk, I would stay conscious of my breathing, notice the overarching trees reaching from yards, the bugs and insects on the ground around me that were looking for the next bite or making their way home. I was training my brain for pure, in the moment, intentional presence and one morning on my way back home from my routinely walk, a fluttering butterfly caught my attention. I greeted them, called them friend, and for the remaining five minutes of my returning stroll, they accompanied me to my front door. This interaction left me with a deepening feeling of returning, striking the bell of my heart that led me to an inner home. When I reached my front door I knew I made contact with something more than the life I had come to know but had realized I never truly knew. A remarkably uncommon and extraordinary occurrence in a lifetime of unremarkably common occurrences. This was interbeing.