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In 1981 I spent 10 months in Australia, working on three different properties: wheat, sheep, and a wool-station. The station was the highlight, 400 square kilometres of scrub, and lots of motorbike riding. And there, during the afternoon retreat in the cool-room, I read Anna Karina and perhaps started really reading.
I was thinking today about the weight of all those words, of searching back for this or that reference, trying to remember allusions - most gone, of course, lost from the scratch buffer during this or that reboot - or worrying about the acres of text that spread in front of me: a book I'm trying to read and the author is talking about so-and-so, and so I add so-and-so on my to-read list. And even if I manage to stay focused, there's the difficulty of actually understanding on the simple surface level what the clearly-clever author is on about ...
I was thinking about this and Tilopa's Six words came to mind:
Don’t recall.
Don’t imagine.
Don’t think.
Don’t examine.
Don’t control.
Rest.
And I thought, in this morning's reading, where was the Now that I could relax into?
profondément - deeply
That's what jumped out, sitting in a gentle sun on our little terrace, listening to the street below, the rooster on the roof opposite. Cold deep water, pressure && cold deep space, empty. Balancing somewhere between the two, here and now.