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Eric’s Sunday Sermon; Contemplation and Thinking In Love

Updated on May 3, 2020
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Holding degrees in philosophy and Law. Formal studies or certificates or degrees in business, theology, insurance and security. Ex-preacher.

What Is He Thinking

About his 3rd time walking?
About his 3rd time walking? | Source

Release

Some people do not do contemplation. I do too much contemplation. Here is a fun one: “Omphaloskepsis or navel-gazing is contemplation of one's navel as an aid to meditation.” Yes I go into contemplation of my belly button. And here is even more contemplation to laugh with. I have had surgery on my naval for a hernia there. My best contemplation is in a transcendental meditation. Totally ridiculous, I contemplate on a perfect or imperfect place and transport there in my mind. Hanging out and sitting in the grass and listening to the beatitudes is one of my favorite places. Contemplation is not limited to your rules for me. I can sit and contemplate “success”. What is success, is there, and I normally reach my contemplation. (Yes contemplation can be a destination all by itself.)

OK, now that is enough of the fu fu stuff. You see I can get so far out there that I am really here. Oops there I go all woo woo again. The point being is that if you go elsewhere then the niggly little interruptions to well-being go away. You return to the here and now and pay that bill without angst regarding the clerk or the nasty debt collector or spouse breathing down your spine. You get out there and let the issue, which is really not an issue, come sit on the leaf and gently place it in the stream and the “issue” floats away. Bye Bye issue hello more clarity. Sorry but it is even more simple.

I have a buddy who takes his dogs for a romp. He is a busy guy. But often he sits under a tree sucking on some straw and watches clouds go by. (More on clouds later.) I suspect he also Omphaloskepsis’s. Why not on a perfect spring day with mostly blue skies and trees budding and birds chirping and squirrels running from his hounds. Uh oh he actually is in his transcendental sweet spot. I must say I am privileged to know the man and also have my own little babbling brooks where all is right. I really don’t even need to take a walk. I designed my little world with corners of peace and tranquility and love. My young son, wife or roses will do just fine. And they seem to know.

My son at around 7 years old saw it and told me to stop, that it was weird. Now, at ten, the little brat tells me to go to my space. Better than a chill pill I reckon. With constant practice you can get to that space in seconds.

Oh dear there is a problem.

Banish Your Tin Soldier

I Love a Good Mess

Why not?
Why not? | Source

Change It

Hopefully you think the problem is that I am one weird son of a gun. Weird means; Heck I don’t know. Just type in “weird meaning“, and it is a weird set of adjective, noun and verbs. Next time you use the word you will remember and stop and contemplate if it is really weird at all. I like just thinking it means different in a rather derogatory sense. If I am weird to you, I ‘get’ you but your normalcy is weird to me. Yes I function appropriately in interactions with most, most of the time. I am insane but can act sane. Maybe all of it is an act.

But here is a big problem. Feelings. Feelings are a problem. Nope not mine but yours. When you are in a zone of being really present without normal distractions like time and accomplishing and guilt and ego you go all receptive to the world around you. But then think of empathy on steroids. I can get into a state where I feel more about your feelings than you do. That really pisses people off and generally you just have to zip it.

I had had one of those mornings. I got up and went for a three mile walk a bout. Then I did some stretching and deep breathing. Then I read some scripture and contemplated it. I did some praying. Then I went to the back of my garden and sat and contemplated as dawn broke, not yet sunrise. Breathing was a one nostril type with fingers also pressed to forehead. OK I was out there good and busted.

Later I had to go get my phone “adjusted”, off to the store I went. Walked in and immediately did an about face and got out of there. The caca was hitting not one but 3 fans. When you are in the contemplation zone you feel all the stuff. The anger was palpable. Deep breaths and in I did go with a smile on my face and happiness in my heart. I exuded what was in me. I almost ignored what was in them. I stopped on the way out and let down my guard and the scene was much more cool baby.

That is not normal, that is weird. All the people there thought about was the next problem all I thought about was feelings. I do not know if in the scheme of things that makes any real difference at all. I do know that my phone worked great. I only have cheesy answers there. By the by the clerk’s name was Esparanza,* go figure.

Some Stuff Is Yucky

Peace.
Peace. | Source

Renditions

More Peace

All of that monkey business and it just boils down to love of life. You can just do it whenever you please. You do not need to be a weirdo. You can just be you and in just a second transport yourself from the norm into the love. No not you your ego, but you, your loving self. It is always there waiting for you to pull it up and put it to work. Nope I have no “do this and do that” just tap that love that is within you no matter what you ‘think’. Feel. Hey your phone will still get fixed. But so might your tense helper on that phone.

I had a gig once with 4 telephones. I dealt in Foreclosures where tension is measured by peaceful to “I want to kill you”. 5:30 am and I worked the East Coast. I am Pacific Standard Time. Of course before 8 am their time I was placed in a holding pattern of sometimes over an hour. Some just hang up and call back. I would work 4 phones so as to combine waiting time. It was a blast. Plenty of time to think. Uh oh, time for a conclusion.

Conclusion??

I don’t do conclusions. That is your job. I do scenarios and questions. But I suggest in a very strong way that contemplation is thinking. No more and no less. I am very fortunate. My life revolves around me thinking. I basically earn a living thinking. Writing is a result. I forget who said that we are not entitled to the fruits of our labor but only entitled to labor.** I like that because my labor is thinking. I do not know what my fruit is. What is your labor? Loving does not count that is pleasure. But labor? Hmm, what do you spend your time doing? Do you just spend it doing? Or do you think more than you do? You get more done with more time thinking.

Now when you think, think in love. Back to that meditation deal. You don’t have to do it. You can simply think with love. Those troubles you may put upon the leaf just go the way of an evaporating cloud. In fact the little puffs of clouds no longer turn into thunderstorms. They become just little clouds passing by to look at in your contemplation and then they are gone if that contemplation is in love.

On the other hand, yesterday I saw some clouds. I did not think on them at all. I picked up the phone, I put on work clothes and I busted out some tools. I did the do and blew those clouds away. And all the while I was thinking about how I loved to get problems resolved. It helps me contemplate in love.

*While a name, it is also a meaning of hope into the future knowing good things will come. I call it happy dreaming.

** Steven Pressfield in The War of Art, quoting Krishna. The process is the reward.

working

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