I am currently writing a lecture for the University of Aberdeen’s Masters in Mindfulness and I wanted to include a passage from War and Peace. The passage describes a scene from the Napoleonic wars in which Prince Andrei is lying on the battlefield, and he’s wounded, and there’s chaos happening all around him, and he looks up to the sky, and he sees the clouds, and he says,
“Oh, look at that. The clouds. Have they always been here?”
And it’s almost as if he’s surprised by the moment…and what’s more is that he gives into that surprise and he finds peace amongst disorder.
This got me thinking about how, when we practice mindfulness, we’re practising noticing and being aware. And once we’re able to do this, without lying on the battlefield with pandemonium all around us, the practice might rise up to hold us when we are faced with the maelstrom of life. This is working with a quality of knowing and knowing the fullness of what’s happening, while it is happening. There may be chaos, but there are also clouds.
To me, this makes sense. What else would you be doing? If we’re only given this one wild and precious life, would you not be trying to see the clouds?
As I was thinking about what I wanted to say in the lecture, I was reflecting on the fact that Prince Andrei was caught off guard by this moment of knowing or seeing. It made me think of all the times that I have been caught off guard by the peace that can come from being surprised into presence. I am sure we all have had experiences that are similar in which presence seeps into our life when we least expect it.
I like to call these snapshot moments. These are the moments in which we all of a sudden find ourselves, whether it be because a loud noise has taken us out of our thoughts, or whether it’s because the smell of something delicious cooking or coffee brewing wafts over us, snapped into a moment of knowing what is happening while it’s happening. For me, this is the beginning point of seeing the clouds.
When we do take a course in mindfulness or when we drop into a meditation session or pull out the cushion, there is always a wee bit of effort. However, the effort is not the final destination. We practice so that ‘seeing the clouds’ can become effortless. We practice so that it can be the way we meet all of our moments and how it is that we move through the world.
Thich Nhat Hanh often teaches this practice of presence in a beautiful and practical way with the use of gathas. Gathas are tiny phrases that we can recite as a way of building mindfulness into each and every one of our moments- whether they be mundane or flashy. These helpful phrases are reminders to pay attention to what is happening directly in front of us. They help pull us out the rushing about distracted mind. There are numerous phrases inviting us to pay attention when we are washing the dishes, brushing our teeth and evening opening the window.
Again, all so that we might notice the clouds…
This week at the Sanctuary’s online meditation session, I will be leading a practice based in the Thich Nhat Hanh tradition so that we might move a bit closer to what it might be like to live mindfully NOW, not just when we find ourselves in the shock of our personal battlefields. If this speaks to you, why not join us?
-Jane
Click HERE to access the Zoom room
The Being Present course is back this January- if you would like some formal mindfulness training and to embark on an online mindfulness journey with me, check it out HERE
Full passage from War and Peace:
“‘What is it? am I falling? are my legs giving way under me?’ he thought, and fell on his back. He opened his eyes, hoping to see how the fight between the French and the artillerists ended, and wishing to know whether the canon had been taken or saved. But he did not see anything. There was nothing over him now except the sky—the lofty sky, not clear, but still immeasurably lofty, with gray clouds slowly creeping across it. ‘How quiet, calm, and solemn, not at all like when I was running,’ thought Prince Andrei, ‘not like when we were running, shouting, and fighting not at all like when the Frenchmen and the artillerists, with angry and frightened faces, were pulling at the swab—it’s quite different the way the clouds creep across this lofty, infinite sky. How is it I haven’t seen this lofty sky before? And how happy I am that I’ve finally come to know it. Yes! everything is empty, everything is a deception, except this infinite sky. There is nothing, nothing except that. But there is not even that, there is nothing except silence, tranquility. And thank God!…’”
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