In Holland, people have a short moment for everything
From a happy short moment to a zen short moment
(PORTUGUÊS) (NEDERLANDS)
It was two years ago when I first heard a “tiny moment” remark. It was lovely Alentejan summer weather. Too hot for most people, for others a chance to experience the luxury of shade. Wealth, I think. The shade of a tree and a breeze. I had spent an hour and a half teaching outside, around the pool where Coen (my husband) created enough shade for all the participants with shade cloth and parasols. There were some bathers among them. That's what I call the passers-by who are here on holiday and don't usually do yoga. For how nice is it when, upon returning home, you can tell that you did yoga in the middle of nature.
My class adapts with great flexibility to the level of such a composite class. There were I think 12 or 15 participants that Sunday. My lessons dig deep and have nothing to do with performance, but rather with awareness of yourself. After such a class, it usually takes ten minutes before anyone says anything. I always have tea and cake served under the big pergola where there is room for everyone.
The participants who start talking immediately (usually the bathers) have not made their inner journey and did look around at what the other person is doing on their mat and think about what the others will think of him or her.
Slowly my regular group moved, practically in silence, to the pergola. While chatting, the bathers approached. Among them was a Dutch woman from the big city. She plopped down and as if in Dutch company - the majority is Portuguese - she said triumphantly:
‘That was a nice little zen moment!’
I remained silent. It slowly dawned on me what she was saying.
A little zen moment. My lesson? A zen moment?
Do you know how long a moment lasts? And then, do you know how long a little moment lasts? I do.
Later on, I heard it more often.
‘Oh nice, let's do a short coffee moment!’
‘That was truly a tiny happy moment!’
When I was in the Netherlands last week, there were also all kinds of moments.
Now that I am back on my farm where silence rules, I understand better why people live from moment to moment. At least, I suspect it has to do with this (and yes I'm going for the short version):
We are born pure love, say with a belly full of joy (just study a baby having fun on its own without a parent making faces and weird noises).
Nurture is the first distraction from that joy. We learn to feed off the emotional love and appreciation of others. We do well or not well. The other person likes or dislikes us. Slowly, our inner joy is eclipsed by living in an outer world.
Society is arranged in such a way that we have no time to turn inward. There are only distractions that cause the attention span to become shorter and shorter. Most do not know what constant joy feels like.
Humanity in general lives from an up moment to a down moment. It is the new addiction. The feeling of happiness and suffering are the same addiction.
Every appointed short moment is like the effect of a snort of coke, a like on the socials, a bottle of wine, a cigarette or a pastel de nata. After an up, there is always a down and then lo and behold we go looking for the next high moment. Outside us. The constant - pure love, pure delight, joy - is no longer experienced. And it's always there. I know.
It takes an endless moment to travel inward, towards joy. When you can reach that point, suddenly the inner and outer struggle has come to an end.
The struggle of:
I like!
I don't like!
Our origin is pure and has nothing to do with outer short lived moments.
Thank you for reading Liesbeth Steur - Dutch. I publish about my life and work in the mountains of Portugal, about yoga as it was originally intended and about issues related to becoming aware of our motivations in life. Subscribe to not miss anything. And you can, of course, express your gratitude with a small monthly contribution of €5. Writing is almost a full-time job. Thank you!