One Minute

Monday Monday

Monday Monday (Photo credit: soonerpa)

In a blog post by Zen priest Karen Mazen Miller  I read, “I still think of writing as something that you do on paper, with your whole hand, in a cursive script that is elegant and intrinsic, like your DNA. I still think of community as consisting of people with bodies, using arms and legs and good manners to stand in line patiently at the post office, where we buy stamps, grouse about the three-penny price increase, see somebody we know, say a kind word, conduct our minor essential business, and go on our way, until next Monday or Thursday or tax season or the holidays.”

I think, perhaps naively, that if we add these simple notions to our behavior  — both online and in real life —  the world might start to make more sense.

What if we decided to become  conscious — both of our breath and the thoughts that monkey mind hurls to the  surface — while we’re standing in line or buying stamps?  Even for a minute.  Would the world start to feel more peaceful?   Even for a minute. Our minute. One minute. Our peaceful time.  One breath at a time.




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