the power of now?

i kind of have a contention with eckhart tolle that i haven't told anyone about. i think eckhart tolle doesn't understand the power of memory in a human being. yes, the present moment is a powerful goddess, etc., etc. that can be.

but, has eckhart tolle talked with many elderly people? i feel like i have. i was raised by my dad, who was always 48 older than me, and my grandma, who was always something like 55 years older than me, and carolee, who was like 43 years older than me. and when they talked to me, they didn't like to complain about their present. after all, i was a little kid in their midst. but my dad and grandma in particular had experienced great losses. they had lost the most joyful times in their lives, and as much as they would have loved to get the ones they most loved back, they knew they couldn't. so they would tell me about those times. my grandma would talk about going to yellowstone with my grandpa. about how they met when they were 6 when he chased her up a cherry tree, were born a week apart, and then he showed up at her high school, and the rest was history. not that he stayed faithful, but still it was history.

of course my dad talked non-stop about my mom. except on holidays when he was so, so sad. that was hard. there was not much i could do to cheer him up then. and sometimes people don't realize that intense pain also can paralyze other people. i don't know the answer for intense pain. i try to write about it, to do yoga.

today i don't feel like i can go to yoga. i have been a fish lying at the bottom of a tank. not very responsive to those around me, though i talked to zulaika for a minute.

i think back on a happy memory, of sitting on a bench in a park, alone and dazed like i was elderly, maybe with dementia, not knowing what to make of my past or future, watching the clouds softly drift over my little world in a sky domed park framed by trees. the children's play equipment didn't matter. the people were there were probably really nice but hardly grazed my vision. i felt like it was the end of something. i didn't want it to be.

i keep thinking about those white clouds. this is what liz (my yoga teacher) notices. the clouds drifting by overhead. the last vivid memories i've heard of hers (though she has kids and nieces, etc.), but the last vivid memories i've heard of hers of love was her two weeks with the yogananda, her two weeks of bliss. then there was her husband who didn't stay but who she forgave.

i don't feel like i can go to yoga. but i may be able to walk kyla to that park. i may even be able to read there.