The Long View

I attended a garden party on Sunday afternoon. The terrace with a 10-mile view was large enough to comfortably seat 5 conversation groups.

The long view settles us, calms us. Then our focus reverts to the people sitting near us and the conversation narrows our attention on something near, and perhaps dear. Maybe the topic pricks us ever so slightly--family or local politics--or fluffs up our ego--family or our accomplishments or one of our opinions that we are sure is correct.

The long view is the quality of equanimity that underlies our practice, the ocean of space that surrounds us. Of course, our attention focuses on some thing near, some thing recognizable, some thing that feeds our sense of self.

Yet, if we step back and take the long view, we see that even these small things are held in spaciousness.