The senses are the way in which we engage with the world, inwardly and outwardly. When we do not have a conscious relationship with the senses, they have a way of pulling us from desire to aversion in an endless cycle of distraction.
When, however, we engage with the senses from a place of inner connection and intention, they hold the possibility of enriching our lives and even connecting us with our truest nature. Whatever we turn our awareness toward has a way of blossoming. That might manifest as compassion in the face of suffering (our own or that of another). When awareness turns toward the senses, we begin to find beauty in unexpected places. The small things that often drift by unnoticed or even get labeled a frustration by practicality can shift. An example from my own practice and life, is in the way I relate to the wind. I love to watch the trees move in the wind, graceful and unafraid. I could watch them for hours. Even more, I love to stand outside in the wind. To feel the invisible force push against me. I even love the way the intense cold of a strong wind has a way of penetrating straight into my bones. I stand in the wind, arms out, laughing and feeling in some ways closer to god (or creation, or nature, the divine, the universe… whatever you want to call it) then at nearly any other time.
The senses can pull you out of your life or make your life really FEEL like the precious gift that it is. They are worth learning to be in conscious connection with!
Why am I reaching again for the brushes?
When I paint your portrait, God,
nothing happens.
But I can choose to feel you.
At my senses’ horizon
you appear hesitantly,
like scattered islands.
Yet standing here, peering out,
I’m all the time seen by you.
The choruses of angels use up all of heaven.
There’s no more room for you
in all that glory. You’re living
In your very last house.
All creation holds its breath, listening within me,
because, to hear you, I keep silent.
from The Book Of Hours
by Rainer Maria Rilke