Front Garden. Rearranging. Agreement. Looking. Appearance. I forgot my glasses this morning. Words appear on paper. Other words appear here. Strange. My sight is blurred. Putting my reading glasses on seems to be a way of concentrating my perception / consciousness upon the page, the movement of drawing letters, and that form that becomes reading as I write. As I type these letters my seeing is also a voice speaking the words. Without glasses I have to concentrate through focussing my sight, and this focussing of sight becomes a voice. But I also allow myself to become easily distracted. Someone walks by, the lightness of being comes to mind, the person steps lightly as they move by, I don't see them, except for a fleeting glimpse on the edge of my sight-perception. This being without reading glasses slows everything.
Another strange thought. This putting of a camera to my eye, which I haven't done for a long time. Another way of looking, another form of perception, another consciousness, a concentration.
I was thinking of arranging. Arranging elements in the frame. Not unlike arranging flowers on a stone, books on a shelf, stamps in an album, words on paper. This arranging as a choreography, a movement, an embodied practice. Another concentration
This form of concentrations, this arranging and re-arranging becomes a meditative practice.
And so, little acts of concentration throughout the day, ways of walking, ways of making some food, scramble an egg, the way I hold this iPhone to type these words, this concentration, this meditation upon these movements, the air as I breath, my heart, pulse, wiggle toes, stretch calf muscles, my digestion, so much done for me by my imperceptible body. Perception embodied, an awareness, a slowness.
I cycled in Richmond Park yesterday. My legs peddled slowly in a high gear down a hill, the bicycle moved fast, the still air whistled, sunlight glinted and sparkled, reflected, I reflect. Then in open grassland, as I look slightly away from the road ahead, everything becomes slow, nearby a blur, on the road, the path, just a little look away, taking in some of my peripheral vision, listening, things become clear again, I see into the distance clearly, far away. And this writing of thoughts and feelings without reading glasses.