The sacred space this Tibetan monk finds himself in, surrounded by the intense, saturated red of his robe and the cushions upon which he sits, pulses with dignity.
Unseen but in constant motion is the red blood that courses through his veins and keeps him alive. Here in this moment, he has paused his external frame. He is visiting an inner room, a sanctuary where remarkably, there is the mere notion of being. There is only breath and sensations and perceptions real and imagined; his elevated thoughts resonant, his mind liberated from earthly obsessions.
Coming off of a high travel schedule, I’m reminded of taking moments with family and being fully present. During conversations, am I really listening to my son or daughter, or am I listening to a conversation I’m having with myself about them? With my partner, am I holding each precious moment fully, or is part of my grasp still off on the planet of work, schedules, responsibilities, regrets, or impressing others?
This is not a complicated image. It’s a directive to look into our inner rooms, to decorate that space with less attention to self and more to others. De-centering myself, I find I am aware of people around the world whose value is unsurpassed by simply being.