Poem by Pablo Neruda

with a guided meditation prelude

what do you need right now?

is it possible you don’t need anything?

breathe

slowly

relax.

Inhale still more deeply

exhale longer than you just inhaled……

what do you need at this moment?

Is it possible to really and truly feel — “at this moment, I don’t need one more thing” —

I can accept this very moment in all its completeness

There may be feelings of sadness

of craving

of fear and tension

of excitement and confusion mixed togehter

of irritation and frustraiton

can i just allow them without trying to fix or control or change them?

Maybe in 20 seconds I can resume my agenda of control, and fixing…

but just for now, am I able to let things be?

Maybe for 25 seconds…

or 28 seconds…

or even maybe a little more than half a minute….

just to fully accept, to embrace, with kindness, love, compassion and care — all that is here now….

even the most apparently horrific things in the world, that are all far beyond my control…

i can just let go of all effort to fix, to control

and just be

KEEPING QUIET, by PABLO NERUDA

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still

for once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for a second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would not look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.

Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.

Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.