Sensousness in Every Moment

I'm sitting in the library, enjoying a cold Tuesday in California, and this is what's on my mind - Sensuousness.

Here's the definition I use for sensuousness (taken from The Free Dictionary

"Highly appreciative of the pleasures of sensation."

This library has a soft yellow tone across the walls, floors, and the faces of the people around me. The yellow comes from the buzzing florescent bulbs overhead, evenly spaced across the ceiling. The columns of the library's structure are painted purple, which gives a bright contrast to the yellow - though even these walls are subject to the cast of florescent light.

What does it mean to see? What is it to see color?

In contemplating the idea of beauty, I'm tempted to ask why certain wavelengths of visible light would be considered more "beautiful" in certain arrangements than other wavelengths. How radical that there is even a wavelength at all. A vibration hits my retina creating the visual sense. The amount of wiggle in this vibration is defined in terms of wavelength, frequency, etc. Light is wiggling my retina. This is sensuousness - the joy of being wiggled.

Every moment, my senses are attentive. Input is being received and processed. The sound of my fingers clicking keys on my keyboard ride over the soft sounds of librarians voices, swiping bar-codes on the library checkout machines, a photocopy machine making rhythmic sweeps behind me.

I open my senses - panoramic. Dropping the specifics, I tune into the pleasure of sensing in and of itself. This sensing is every moment. This sensing is a dazzling symphony of sensory changes.

As humans, most of us are aware that each moment of our life is never to be repeated. Each moment is "the moment of a lifetime." Each is unique, fleeting, and never to come again. And yet, with each passing moment, we are still "here," it is still "now." How do we spend these moments?

What are you doing right now? I'm typing on my keyboard, listening softly to the sounds around me. Whatever it is that we may be doing... right now sensuousness is available. The pleasure of sensing itself, which is the pleasure of actuality. The pleasure of being a sensate being in intimacy with our physical surroundings.

Sensuousness is intimacy, and sensuousness is the window into the perfection of this universe. Sensuousness is what makes the actuality of this physical universe so ultimately satisfying. Sensuousness can't be imagined, and can't be found in any fantasy. It is only available here and now... but in this very moment it is available in abundance.

Enjoy your holidays.

- Daniel

Update

As you may notice, I've updated the look of my blog to stay current with the changes in my life. Rather than explain all the reasons and philosophies behind the change, I'll just leave it to be discovered by those who may be reading and following along, and I'll leave this post as history of what came and went.

As my life continues to change, I'm looking around at this world I live in with new eyes. I'm looking with fascination and marvel at this very physical universe.

In this world, there are trees. There are squirrels. There are people. There is a bright blue sky which spans out into the greatest depths of infinite space. There is the light of the sun which trickles down through leaves, shutters, and shades to reach this fantastic sense organ called the eye.

There is a human being seeing, thinking, and typing. There are the molecules of organic matter composing an intricate and richly layered organism of cells, tissues, and organs. There is this whole business called being alive.

Why is it that a Human Being, living in this verdant paradise still lives with anger and aggresion? Why is it that a Human Being lives with fear, stress, and anxiety? Why the violence? Why the corruption? Why the sorrow? This is what we call the human condition.

Here I am, alive in this moment. And here is a fresh start.

Going Beyond Beauty

I woke up this morning, feeling fresh, well rested. I looked across the room to the blue curtain hanging by the brown wooden window frame. The contrast of bright blue on woody brown was stunning and I decided to linger with my attention there for a minute. As I continued to enjoy this vivid display of color, a sense of beauty arose in me.

"That's beautiful," I thought to myself, while looking at this vivid blue on brown arrangement of light.

"Ah, beauty!" I thought to myself next. I had been eagerly awaiting a chance to explore this beauty thing in greater depth. What is this thing we call beautiful? I investigated inwardly with an attentive curiousity. Ah, yes... beauty is a feeling, an emotion!

It sounds strange even writing it now, but in the moment it's so clear. Beauty is my enjoyment of my concept about the show of light I was watching. It's a sorta inward vibing with myself and my own thought "this is beautiful." Because I have concieved that I'm observing a "beautiful thing," I can experience a sorta inward pleasure with myself. Because "I" am witnessing the beauty, and because "I" am a part of this beauty - I get a warm pleasure inside. In essence, the beauty wouldn't even exist if not for "me!" and what a wonderful boost this is for "me."

"Ah, yes... this is what I've been calling "beauty." What a waste! Let me throw that out," I thought next. The absurdity of it required no further investigation. "Now, let me see what this experience actually is," I continued with the inquiry. What is this blue and brown? What is this seeing? What are these sensations in my eyeballs which are percieving color - vibrant, active, radiating.

I continued to look at the colors with the directness of my actual eyes. Abandoning the safe space behind the eyes where I could sit and observe - the safe space where "I" still exist. I lept forward, into the colors themselves, into my eyeballs, into the sensations. The colors were the sensations, the curtains were the colors, my eyes were the sensing. The sensing was active. These colors were not dead, lifeless, inert. These colors were now! These colors, the actual experience, was actually happening. Light entering eyeballs, a selection of wavelengths percieved by the sensitive apparatus of the visual organ. Each wavelength unique and distinct by it's very factual existence. The sensing was the most intimate and direct contact with these already existant colors.

Delight would be a small understatement. Pleasure fits well. What a joy these colors were. The joy was the sensing - there was no gap. No sensing first and then enjoying. The sensing was the enjoying. Sensuosness. The pure pleasure of unadulterated sensing. Actual color, actual light.

It was clear that I had left the territory known as the beautiful and was now traveling in a new landscape. This landscape was completely unknown as it's existence was only in the present moment. There was no way to have been there before, thus no way to have known it previously.

What was "beauty" had now opened up into a new world of sight and seeing. Beauty had fallen by the wayside. Things still held some resemblence to that old image of beauty. The experience was still fascinating, scintillating, vibrant, stunning, wondrous, active and dynamic. The pleasure of it had only increased if anything. But, beautiful? A far cry. Such a personal and self-referential adjective couldn't possibly describe this experience which was so much more than "I" could ever be.

Ah... time passed and I sat down thinking, "maybe I should write about that experience." I began to reflect on it (as I'm also reflecting on it now while typing.)

Reflecting thus, "going beyond beauty. What a wonderful experience," I began again to tune into my experience. This time I sat at my computer, music playing, soft light coming in through the blinds.

"Ah, yes. It's still here." *IT* being the actual universe as experienced through the sense organs. It is still here indeed! Ha!

I hear the music and once again take the leap. The leap into the sensations themselves, free from my self. The music surrounds me, it approaches from every angle, as I sit in the music itself - In the hearing, at the exact point of dynamic contact. The colors blend with sound, as it all becomes just raw sensation. This time the pleasure nears overwhelm, and literally knocks the breath out of me. I recoil to catch my breath. Physical waves of pleasure move through the entirety of my body.

This is new.

I've never ventured this far out before - this far beyond "the beautiful."

Habitual reactions come up. Mostly fear. "Oh, this is too much," and "oh, I can't take this," and "I can't handle this," and "this isn't good," etc.

I pause and consider the facts: Well, certainly I wouldn't live very long if I'm not breathing, so catching my breath is a sound idea. But, having the breath knocked out of me is just a startle response to the rather surprising stimuli of such intense pleasure. There's nothing about the pleasure itself that is overwhelming. Ok, excuse diverted.

I continued the inquiry. "Could I live there forever?" And the next fear became clear: "Ah... but it will consume all of me. Like a black hole, it will absorb me completely." And for some reason this seems "scary"? The scariness of it evades me at this moment. A flurry of other reactions and resistance shows it's head - all of it unfounded in any sort of sensibility.

It's like a tin can called "beauty" was sitting on my shelf and I naively decided to open it. "Experience" popped out, and now there's no getting it back in. In fact, I'm not sure I can even find the can anymore.

I sit, continuing to type. Yes, there is still work to do. This isn't, at all, the end of the journey, but the end of this little tale. A tale which continues on as this moment, "this only moment of being alive."

Field Trip to the Fields

I may not be traveling anymore right now, but I can still take a field trip. So, last Monday about a dozen Happy Boy Farms employees (including myself) took a field trip out to the fields where our veggies are growing fresh and lively.

One thing that can be said about the Happy Boy farmer's market workers is that we are our number one fans! Which is to say that we probably eat more of Happy Boy's produce than any of our other customers. The running joke is that the people at the grocery store must be laughing at us when they only ever see us buying dairy, toilet paper and beer. Well, maybe not exactly, but when all of our veggies, fruit, bread, rice and honey are coming fresh from the farmer's market, there's not much need for anything else.

Mouths watering, we hit the fields. A few of the veggies were so tempting that they just had to be plucked on the spot. Other than eating watermelons and tomatoes in the field, I also took home a "first of the season" red kabocha squash, a few fresh red cippolini onions, and a handful of okra.

California is such an amazing land. The skies were big and blue and the sun was shining hot. The majority of the fields we visited were in the Hollister and Gilroy area, although I don't know all the exact locations. Greg (the owner of the farm) was excited about our newest field because of the mix of long hours of sunshine with a cool coastal air - perfect for our baby lettuce!

The colors were beautiful, the smells were fresh, and the Happy Boys and Girls were smiling happily. Yum!

By the way, I've used up all my free space on Picasa, so I started another account to fit the new photos:
http://picasaweb.google.com/bhavanatraveler

Home

I just watched this movie, Home. It's a series of breathtaking aerial images of different landscapes across the planet Earth. A narrator describes "our home" as we move through time from the beginnings of life to the age of petroleum.

It's more of an eco-movie than a meditation movie, but I'm not sure if there's much difference for me. I really like the maxim: Think Globally, Act Locally. And, really that's what my blog is about too: Travel Globally, Meditate Locally. (Maybe that will be my new tag line.)

The imagery in the movie takes us on travels around the globe to see stunning sights from every continent. The story takes us implicitly into the psychology of being an Earthling, although there's no explicit mention of psychology or greed or the primal drives which move us as humans.

What becomes clear is that with the beginnings of life comes the hunger for energy. To be an Earthling, and to be alive, is to be an energy hungering, sucking, slurping carbon-based form. To be an Earthling is to be composed of energy stored in organic matter and to feed off the energy of the Earth, the Sun, or the stored energy of other organic beings. Organic life. Hungry. Licking it's lips. Carbon! Light! Yum!

In fact, it even appeared (to me) as though humanity has just been a pawn in the wide sweeping movement of life to be born of energy and light - a process which has been going on for billions of years and is likely to continue long after the carbon-based human has mutated once again into greatly more complex organic life.

I like the idea of titling the movie "Home," though I was expecting it to be a bit more like a tour through my home to see what we find. I think they had a different agenda. I'll suggest the next movie be called "Earthling."

Anyway, I'm hungry now for some more light-energy stored conveniently in plant forms for my consumption. Time to eat. Slurrp!