Floating through life could not be simpler. If we relax and lie still in the water, we will float. But often we hear people declare sadly that they cannot swim. They are trying to run before they can walk, or to swim before they first start to float.
I do not know of any more pleasant experience than floating, lying on my back, and being taken along by the current. Although at one time I was a contender for the world worrying championship, I found it almost impossible to participate when lying on my back floating along. It was many years before I was ready to lie back in everyday life, to accept myself as I was, to float and enjoy the fruits of stillness.
Floating through life may seem like an impossible dream to you at this moment, but more and more people are realising this dream, even when engaged in the most strenuous activities. I remember hearing the husband and coach of Joyce Smith, the first winner of the women’s London Marathon, calling out to her as she stretched away into the lead: “Float, Joyce, float!” He knew what he was talking about.
On a TV programme, I heard Dame Kelly Holmes say that she found herself running even faster as she realised she had won her second Olympic gold medal, and automatically relaxed. This was yards before she reached the tape.
Often we cannot relax until we have striven so hard that we are forced to give up such strenuous effort. We strive until we are eventually ready to have our final disappointment with ourselves. Collapsed into failure — or lack of satisfaction even with our success — we are ready to hear the wisdom of the ages that was locked up inside us all the time: relax, accept, you are all right as you are.
Let us take this moment to pause and start our floating experience. If you want to do so, then you could lie down on the floor or on your bed, or you could sit up in a chair, dignified, but not rigid.
Drop your shoulders now, and relax with a gentle sigh. Be aware of your breathing again. If it helps, you could say quietly: “Life is as it is . . . life is as it is,” to the rhythm of your breath.
Stay relaxed and afloat like this for as long as you feel comfortable. Don’t struggle to empty your mind. If troubling thoughts come to disturb you, don’t engage with them, but just observe them. Let the unwanted thoughts come. They can be like small puffy clouds going across the sky. Watch them come and go. Someone said these thoughts are to him like a parade marching past that he can just watch and smile at. He does not need to follow the brass band.
This is how life can be when we are floating effortlessly along. It is a taste of heaven, and it will increase as we practise being present in the here and now — observing, observing. We are not ambitious, but accepting whatever progress we make, fast or slow.
Trying to float causes us to sink. But we are not trying, just being still, aware of our body, our arms and our legs. We feel heavy, and yet we float.
We do not pass judgement. This moment is as it is, just as it is. We are very consciously here, feeling alert but relaxed.
We do not rush from our floating experience, but carry some of the peace with us as we move into our daily tasks. If possible, we remain aware of the things we are doing, even seemingly mundane activities such as walking up and down stairs or washing our hands. We are quietly buying back each moment, and are consciously alive.
This is an edited extract from This Is It: The art of happily going nowhere by Maurice Fullard Smith published by DLT at £5.95; 978-0-232-52693-6.
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