He went there after a gap of several, somewhat lazy weeks. While ‘no visit’ was a product of passivity, the intervening weeks too were absent fierce action and the resultant discoveries. The ‘being in the park’ and jogging were invigorating. The slow progression towards increased energy that got generated while jogging has always been an inspiring process…he jogged on.
The others on the path — walkers, joggers, music listeners or time-passers were all there, carrying multiple thoughts and their absorptions in them. The girls listening to the music with the ear-phones in their ears, the women with their slow walk, conversing deeply on an obviously trivial matter of the neighbour’s family, the middle-aged brown-eyed tall man walking briskly or the girl jogging behind- they all had their thoughts and were absorbed in them. There were others off the path, in the park. The dozen odd people in white kurta pajamas, lying on their individual mats on the grass, doing something akin to exercise…raising their legs and putting them down. Then raising the other one. Repeat action. They call it yoga, quite proudly. And the man sitting on the bench, closing one nostril with his index finger to control his breath. In a few minutes, he would feel fresh, get up and go back to his routine of the day. The other middle-aged man, lean and tough-looking, was often there with his warriors that one can always count on the fingers of one hand. The captain always wore trousers and t-shirts, while the warriors would always wear their white, visibly cumbersome, ‘samurai’ dress. And they would go on, almost doing the same thing everyday- trying to hit each other with their legs and missing.
They were all doing different things, thinking different thoughts, or being thought. It is a world of variety. And yet they were all absorbed in what they were doing, or being done to. They were all ONE, not similar, but one in that.
The lone jogger jogged. And watched. He watched his surrounding, the people and their actions, the trees with their light-green fresh foliage, the cement-tile lining beneath and the clearer sky above. He watched his legs as they rose and moved forward. He watched the air as it went in and out with force. He watched his body rise and become straighter as he sprinted, and he watched how it generated propelling energy for the body to move forward. He was totally attentive and focused- he put all his energy to his jogging. He was aware of what the breath is doing to his body, and mind. He was immersed in what he was doing, or causing to happen.
The jogger existed in his observation. As if both were one. Things were happening around him, things were happening inside him. He watched. With attention and care. With freedom. Seemingly he was doing something very similar to those around him, and yet he was not one of them. He was free.
The watching and being absorbed are two fundamentally different processes. One exists in the space where the other is completely absent. You can either be absorbed or watch. Absorption is an ‘identified being’ whereas immersion is being with the experience with all attention and watchfulness. One creates ‘kaama’, leaves residue of memories and their attachment, creates past. The other moves on, without residue and past. In that it is a ‘niskaama’ action.