From one point of view, your life comprises a series of relationships: relationships with other people, with the environment, with food, with drink, with pleasure, with pain, with belief systems, with your body, with your mind, with your emotions, with your past (your memories) and with the future (your hopes and fears), to name but a few.
Then of course there is a layer of sub-relationships: the relationship between your heart and your veins, between your nerves and your brain, between your arm and your shoulder, between last month’s bank balance and this month’s, to name but another few.
This entire universe, in fact, from one point of view comprises a series of relationships: between planets and their star, between a star and its galaxy, between galaxies and other galaxies, between the subatomic realm and the manifest realm, between mass and movement, between sound and light and so on.
Every aspect of existence is in motion, hence everything is in a state of perpetual change, some of it visible to the naked eye, most of it not.
But underlying all relationships, at the core of all movement, lies the unchanging, Life, the Tao, God, call it what you will – names are just names – and if you want renewal in each and every moment, which is fundamentally what drives the universe and everything in it: the urge for renewal, rather than seek it in the next externally born thrill or sensation, seek it (and find it) by reasserting your relationship with the unchanging, with the source of all existence (and non-existence): the Tao/Life/God/Whatever.
The Native Americans, with whom I was privileged to spend four years of my life, would instinctively speak to the Great Spirit (Tao/Life/God/Whatever) as if it was present in every person, animal, plant or inanimate object. They would talk to a table, a chair, a tree, a rock, a mountain, the sky, the earth, other people and know they were talking to the divine. They wouldn’t put their hands together and look up to do this. Their gaze would be level, because they knew what they were addressing was everywhere – above, below, before, behind, to the sides, within and without. They called this praying.
The Native Americans originated in the same part of Asia as the people who later became known as Taoists and though the trappings are slightly different, the relationship between person and divine are essentially the same. And though the Taoists don’t emphasize actual dialogue in the form of prayer, dialogue with the divine is implicit in all their practice.
From an experimental standpoint, try addressing the Tao in whatever, or whoever lies within your gaze right now and aloud if appropriate of silently if not, ask it to give you step-by-step guidance for the rest of the day – and ask it to grant you the inner silence in order to be able to hear the guidance as it comes through.
Then forget we ever had this chat but every now and then throughout the day, check back in to the zone we’ve just mutually engendered by this discussion and have a listen to what it’s telling you.
Following this guidance is what leads you on the fabulous adventure your life can be when you let go into the natural flow.
May yours turn out to be so fabulous you hardly recognize your life as a result.