Today, I’d like to quote an except from a book I’m currently re-reading….maybe the words will resonate out there….
“My grandmother knew what a painful life had taught her: success or failure, the truth of a life really has little to do with its quality. The quality of life is in proportions, always, to the capacity for delight. The capacity for delight is the gift of paying attention.
The reward for attention is always healing. It may begin as the healing of a particular pain, but what is healed, finally, is the pain that underlies all pain: the pain that we are all, as Rilke phrases it, “unutterably alone.”
Writing about attention, I see that I have written a good deal about pain. This is no coincidence. It may be different for others, but pain is what it took to teach me to pay attention. In times of pain, when the future is too terrifying to contemplate and the past too painful to remember, I have learned to pay attention to right now. The precise moment I was in was always the only safe one for me. Each moment, taken alone, was always bearable. In the exact now, we are all, always, all right. I am breathing in and out. Realizing this, I began to notice that each moment was not without its beauty. “