How I Learned to Be Present—One Sound at a Time

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“Time isn’t the primary factor. It’s the one factor.” ~Miles Davis

When I first learn that quote, it hit me proper within the chest. Not as a result of it sounded profound—however as a result of it was one thing I had been slowly, painfully studying over the course of a really quiet, very lengthy yr.

Time used to really feel like a race. Or possibly a shadow. Or a trickster. Some days, it slipped by means of my fingers like water. Other days, it dragged me alongside like a heavy cart. But at all times, it was one thing outdoors me—one thing I used to be chasing or making an attempt to flee.

I spent a lot of my life impatient. Not within the apparent, tapping-your-foot sort of approach, however within the quiet, inner sort of approach: the fixed sense that one thing needs to be occurring, or occurring quicker, or have already got occurred by now. I measured life by milestones—achievements, breakthroughs, arrivals. I instructed myself I used to be being productive, however actually, I used to be simply uncomfortable with stillness.

The Turning Point: Time Isn’t Linear

Before all this, I considered sound as one thing exterior—music, noise, dialog. But Nada Yoga remodeled that understanding. In the stillness of these lengthy days, sound turned an anchor. Even the hum of the heater or the ticking of the clock turned companions. When I gave them my full consideration, they stopped being background noise and have become a part of the current second.

This is once I started to grasp that point isn’t as linear as I had at all times believed. The previous and future had been concepts taking part in out in my thoughts, however the sound of now—the tone, the breath, the delicate vibration in my chest—was plain. And each time I tuned into it, I discovered myself grounded once more.

Physics agrees in unusual methods. Einstein known as time a “stubbornly persistent phantasm,” and within the language of relativity, time doesn’t go in the way in which we really feel it does. Some physicists imagine that the previous, current, and future all exist directly—that point isn’t a straight line, however extra like a panorama we transfer by means of. What we expertise as “now” relies on the place we’re standing, so to talk—our body of reference.

It’s not that point isn’t actual—it’s that our expertise of it’s formed by consideration, reminiscence, and motion.

This perception doesn’t make time really feel much less pressing, but it surely reframes it. If time is an phantasm, it might be much less about seconds ticking by and extra about consciousness itself. What we name “now” isn’t a slice between earlier than and after—it’s a subject we enter by means of presence. That’s why mindfulness and Nada Yoga matter right here: they’re not simply strategies for coping—they’re methods of seeing.

In the teachings of the Eightfold Path, this felt most linked to Right Mindfulness and Right Concentration. But as a substitute of striving to good these steps, I merely allowed sound to guide me there. Following the thread of vibration was a follow in presence. It didn’t matter what time the clock mentioned. The solely actual second was the one I might hear, really feel, and meet with openness.

When Time Moves Too Fast

Eventually, I started to really feel higher. My physique regained energy, and my considering was clearer. I began doing extra, respiration extra slowly, strolling farther, planning. But with that return got here a distinct sort of problem: the pace of life.

It’s unimaginable how shortly we are able to overlook stillness as soon as momentum kicks again in. Emails. Errands. The limitless listing of issues we must always’ve already completed. I used to be “again,” however I observed one thing curious—I missed the sluggish time. Not the discomfort, however the spaciousness. The simplicity. The depth I had found when life wasn’t asking me to maneuver so quick.

I attempted to carry onto what I’d discovered. I’d remind myself that presence doesn’t should be difficult—listening to a mushy drone or resting within the inside hum I might nonetheless really feel once I paid consideration. That tiny ritual turned a approach to soften the sides of my days. It jogged my memory that even when life is loud and quick, there may be nonetheless one thing quiet beneath, ready.

And as soon as once more, I turned to the Eightfold Path, this time to Right Effort. Not effort as in battle, however the mild self-discipline to return, to hear, to not overlook myself within the rush. Patience, it seems, isn’t one thing you grasp as soon as and for all. It’s one thing you follow time and again in small, quiet methods.

The Sound of Patience

What stunned me most was realizing that endurance has a sound. It’s not at all times silence.

Sometimes, it’s the low hum of the fridge at midnight. Sometimes, it’s the regular beat of a distant drum in a chunk of music. Sometimes, it’s simply my very own breath or heartbeat or pulse, reminding me that I’m right here.

And presence has its personal rhythm too. The extra I tuned in, the extra I noticed how a lot time opens up once I cease resisting it. A couple of conscious minutes can really feel full and wealthy. A rushed hour can really feel like nothing in any respect.

We say “time flies” once we’re having fun with ourselves—however I’ve discovered one thing deeper: time expands once we’re absolutely current. When I hear—actually hear—to what’s right here, I don’t really feel late. I don’t really feel behind. I really feel complete.

This doesn’t imply I’ve figured all of it out. I nonetheless lose endurance. I nonetheless test the clock an excessive amount of. But now, I’ve a follow to return to—a follow constructed not on perfection, however on sound, breath, and the quiet belief that every thing unfolds in its personal time.

The longer I stroll this path, the extra I see that my struggling round time wasn’t actually about minutes or hours. It was about resistance. It was in regards to the perception that the current second was by no means fairly sufficient. That I needed to get someplace, grow to be somebody, obtain one thing earlier than I might relaxation.

But by means of mindfulness, and particularly by means of the follow of listening—whether or not to the mushy whispering tones of the wind in Nada Yoga or to the peculiar sounds of day by day life—I’ve found a gentler fact:

The current second isn’t one thing we earn. It’s one thing we enter.

And once we do, once we cease preventing time and begin listening to it, we discover one thing sudden—not vacancy, however richness. Not ready, however arrival.

A Closing Reflection

There’s a mushy drone of reticulated sounds taking part in as I write this now. A deep tone that hardly shifts however someway holds me regular. It jogs my memory to breathe. It jogs my memory to decelerate. It jogs my memory that I’m not behind—I’m right here.

I feel that’s the actual present of each mindfulness and Nada Yoga. Not to assist us “profit from our time,” however to assist us really feel time otherwise—not as a stress, however as a presence.

And so I depart you with this:

Next time you’re feeling rushed or stressed, cease. Close your eyes. Listen for the quietest sound within the room—or in you. It may not be music, and even lovely, however it is going to be actual. And in that sound, nevertheless small, you may discover a doorway to now.

And now, as Miles Davis mentioned, time isn’t just the primary factor—it’s the one factor.

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