The Present Moment.

April is the cruellest month, breeding

Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

Memory and desire, stirring

Dull roots with spring rain.

Winter kept us warm, covering

Earth in forgetful snow, feeding

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47311/the-waste-land

“memory and desire, stirring“ hit the sentiments of the presence.

i am in the process of curing a chronic inflammation in my ankle. I am developing a relationship to understand my ankle and my body further.

A thought came up in the pool: if the condition became chronic because what I did on the every day basis, I should have the opportunity to act different every day from now paying more attention to my body and

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 place for me. Each moment, taken alone, was always bearable. In the exact now, we are all, always, all right. Yesterday the marriage may have ende