Gone

Gone:

two days ago, for the first time ever, a tornado touched down in my backyard, sweeping through just a small portion of the neighborhood before it disappeared. Fortunately no lives were lost and the property damage seems to me a minimum, a few smashed car and signs down, but nothing that won't soon be replaced. Sadly though, there's fallen trees, some uprooted and others just snapped in half, splintered by the force of wind. It's my childhood home that I'm living in right now, and these trees have been present throughout my life, experiences of bird-songs and shade, watching squirrels scammer at play, and simply basking in the presence that every tree offers. 

on truth, I took these trees for granted.

and now gone,

my appreciation shows deeply.

to be fair to myself, I've always loved these trees, and when I say that I took them for granted it's really only in the general sense that I believed they'd last beyond my lifetime. I love the beauty of trees, their individuality as well as their unity of design. If a branch is down due to any storm I mourn the damage to the tree, offering a prayer for it's healing every time I walk by. But I never really considered them no longer being here, even as I pass fallen trees through the deeper woods along the many paths of my neighborhood, it never occurred to be that my own nearby trees might no longer share their presence. Yet now I see the wounded earth of their absence, a part of my own history gone, and deeply realize my own brief and transitory lifetime.

in an instant too, 

I'll be gone. 

without even a wound against the earth left behind. 

it's an important consideration, that my lifespan is so much less than almost every tree, but my presence just as vital in it's own unique way. I've fed these neighborhood tress with my breath and the gaze of my attention, felt their shade and enjoyed their fragrance, they were loved for all they offered, and more, for the simplicity and ease of their presence. 

in this consideration...

my own brief lifespan, has a legacy of love and deep appreciation. 

nothing really needs to be left behind.

it's enough to have existed. 

and truly been alive. 

~

Peace, Eric 

To read more from Headless Now, please visit: This is How It Happens

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This is How it Happens

This is how it happens: 

most of the time I just leave it to the flow of words, no topic in mind, writing for the sake of whatever now unfolds. At one point this was a cause for deep frustration, not having a theme would leave me feeling fearful and adrift within an empty page, having little faith that inspiration would guide me through my writing. I'm much more trustful in the process these days, relaxed, and unconcerned with how the words will flow - 

thoughts always seem to find the page.

I wish I could offer guidance on how this has happens, provide some sort of blueprint that others might follow. But honestly, I don't really know, it's a mystery to me, and perhaps that's the secret right there - it's okay to not know whatever might come next, if anything at all, that if the very worst fearful thing that follows the last written word is absolute silence....

then reside in the stillness of the moment.

for however long.

unafraid.

relaxed.

don't try and make anything happen, there's no room for force here, effort won't make words arrive any faster. In fact, effort, concentration, actually slow the process to a near standstill. Just enjoy the silence, surrender to it, trust that words will appear completely on their own and their pace can't be measured by the standards of our time. 

there it is, the best that I can offer.

not so much a plan.

but this is how it happens.

~

Peace, Eric 

To read more from Headless Now, please visit: But It Took Awhile

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But It Took Awhile

 

But it took awhile: 

this morning, according to my weather app, sunrise is at 5:41 a.m, and at least for another week or so, it will continue trending earlier, as it has for several months now. Soon though, the trend reverses and we'll lose just a few minutes each day to a darker morning. I've looked forward to these light-filled mornings all through winter, keeping track of dawn's arrival, eager for my first glimpse of a favored sunrise. I'm enjoying these last few weeks of early light, soaking up the healthy benefits of those early morning rays, and at the same time remembering that so very soon I'll be letting go...

darker mornings are once more just ahead.

and I'm perfectly fine with the slight sadness this surrender, feeling in stride with the cycle of dawn's gain and loss of light, and more so, eager to again embrace the mystery of those darker mornings. That's the paradox here, holding those opposing emotional views without any apparent contradictions within, simply accepting, accepting, and accepting. 

always. 

but it took awhile to arrive here, really, a lifetime to reach this point. 

and now, 

I just smile at all, how I once struggled to hold on to every inch of light, afraid of the soft approach of darkness and how it sneak it's way towards me. I'm unafraid of my own contradictions, that I can be the very source of light as well as a shadow event playing through my life. 

I've reach the point where everything's allowed...and amazingly, smiling now...

seeing that it always was,

all along the way. 

~

Peace, Eric

To read more from Headless Now, please visit:  Others

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Others

Others: 

at a certain point our lives are called to service. Maybe not overtly so, with no grand gesture of turning our backs to the life we know and working solely for a charity, or perhaps not even noticed by anyone at all. Just a small, quiet life of serving others through infinite acts of care and love. That's the beauty of where my path has now brought me, surrendering my once great concerns for life to the more immediate care for others. 

again, small things.

but it feels enough for me.

I'm reminded of how Ramana Maharshi was once asked by a follower as to how we should treat others, and his reply was brought forth with a smile and the reminder that "there are no others" - and finally now, I seem to deeply understand this, more so, to intimately know that this is true. 

and so,

just a small, quiet life of service,

through infinite acts of love and care.

it seems perfectly natural now.

~

Peace, Eric 

To read more from Headless Now, please visit: A Lifetime of Practice

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A Lifetime of Practice

A lifetime of practice: 

still, after all this time, decades of practicing yoga, and I still fall out of the easiest, most basic poses. It's exactly why I love my practice, that it's never a settled matter, always a balancing point between focus and relaxation and I simply can't commit to one aspect without the possibility of compromising the other. It's a constant flow of energy, mindfulness, built into the fabric of all my favorite postures. 

especially, right now, vrksasana,

tree pose.

it seems I'm almost always tempted to approach this posture casually, being long familiar with it, fairly proficient since my earliest days of yoga. Yet I take it lightly at my own risk of sacrificing the grace that it offers, missing out of the opportunity to remain rooted in the earth of my connection while my spine lengthens tall and my arms branch upwards to the sky. Any breach of focus, errant breath, or not allowing myself the right moment of relaxation -

and the pose remains incomplete.

a half attempt at best. 

vrksasana demands the most of my practice.

every pose does, really.

and of course, all of life does too. 

that's the true value of yoga, learning to momentarily fall from grace, to catch ourselves, and simply, easily, recommit to practice. Nothing more can ever be expected from us, our life is our practice and it's never really mastered, it's just a series of moments that call for the best of our attention. A lifetime of practice. 

it's all yoga.

~

Peace, Eric 

To read more from Headless Now, please visit: Love and Practice

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Love and Practice

Love and practice: 

the agenda for me was always words on a page, my first and only goal of writing was - to write, every day, and nothing beyond that held any great importance. It's been well over 25 years since that vow was made it's been easily kept, writing daily as a practice without concern of meaning, just happy that words arrive to me so freely and almost always feel inspired. 

I'd like this practice to extend another 25 years.

or even longer.

but I'm happy going day by day.

lately I've added something extra to this list of daily practice, filming, making sure that I open myself to whatever sight that nature offers and sharing it with others. There's no prerequisite except that it captures my imagination, that's it's unique to my perspective alone, as if the entire universe conspired to deliver me to the exact moment of my inspiration. 

and who knows? 

perhaps it did. 

that's how easy art is, and everyone's an artist. It's simply a matter of showing up daily, committed, and then falling in love with the actual practice of our craft. Love and practice are two key words here, as it's all a practice and that allows us the freedom of imperfection - and love is the force that keep us committed every day. 

it's a simply formula, 

love and practice...

it works so well for me. 

~

Peace, Eric 

To read more from Headless Now, please visit: June

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June

June:  

it's the beginning of June, considered the meteorological start of summer, and my favorite time of year. I love that the solstice is still weeks away, as if the season is gaining momentum for the longest day of light for it to offer, yet with summer itself already softly in effect. I celebrate the first of June to welcome in the season and then the solstice for its length of light, with the entire month being worshiped as the most fulfilling time of year for me.

 this also marks the halfway point of the year, that from hear on, even without our notice, there is the pull towards another winter. June reminds me to stay mindful of the present, and yet not lose sight of the transience of every season, to enjoy the touch of sunlight now, bask in its warmth, a brief and fragile gift that even now is changing. 

a briefness that only causes me to love more deeply.

June is the peak and slow decline of green foliage, the newborn of spring begin to mature, a season of passage, bittersweet in its way. 

my favorite time of year.

~

Peace, Eric 

To Read more from Headless Now, please visit: Giving Up

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