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I recently had a vacation to a stunning region in Portugal. Located in the centre of a national park, we stayed in a renovated farmhouse. In a valley was the farmhouse. The birds were just beginning to roost when we got there in the evening. The weather was still warm, and pollen-scented air was in the air. The sound of crickets was audible. That valley has a small river running through it. We walked across a narrow wooden bridge after opening a flimsy gate. I could clearly picture my morning routine for the following 14 days as we made our way up the winding route to our home. I had put in a lot of effort over the previous few months,. I was worn out because I had been working hard for a while. I wanted this vacation to be a quick getaway. Every morning when I awoke, it was still rather cool, and I would meditate for a bit. I visualised myself in a serene setting, my body at ease and my mind at ease. As the early morning sun rose over the top of the hill, I felt its first rays hit my face as well as the river flowing and the birds and other wildlife beginning to stir. Present. It sounds like paradise to me even as I write this.

The following morning, I got up early, and everything was exactly as I had anticipated. Nothing compares to the quiet of the early morning. I experienced a soft, serene sense surrounding me. Although it didn't originate with me, it appeared to come from the ground, the river, and the mountains. More so than usual, everything seemed obvious. The mind wasn't constantly running like it usually does. Despite the fact that I had never been there before, it seemed warm and comfortable. I located a place to recline peacefully.The inconspicuous murmur of insects was audible. There was barely any movement in the extremely quiet atmosphere. My face was stung by a fly. After a short while, I softly lifted my hand and ushered him out of the room. A second fly then landed on my face. then another then another I no longer felt what I had only a moment ago. The first morning was about thirty minutes of mild torture before I gave up and went back to the farmhouse.

I tried out several strategies throughout the next few days. To try to get away from the flies, I moved to a different location. I visited at various occasions throughout the day. I had been practising meditation for a long time and had previously overcome a variety of distractions and challenges. I was positive that this would be the same. I had heard many tales and parables about similar events, with the "lesson" being that "the underlying cause of your sorrow is your resistance to things not turning out the way you want them to. Let go of the resistance. Give up the need for things to be a specific way. Words. I frequently said the same thing to other people. I could understand the words.I tried to change my perspective. I tried to simply experience the movements of each fly as pure sensation on my skin. I reminded myself that flies are an important part of the ecosystem and tried to appreciate each fly. I was lying to myself. Things weren’t going the way I wanted them to. I really hated those flies. I just felt irritated and tense. I was in a constant state of vigilance…waiting for the next fly to land on my skin, knowing that I would have to “mindfully” endure its presence for as long as possible until finally, when I could take no more, I would choose to “mindfully” flick it away… knowing also that in a few moments it would inevitably return. I thought about abandoning my plan to practice outside in nature and moving inside to the farmhouse. I’m stubborn though and I endured several more mornings of mental torture.

The fact that I couldn’t drop my resistance to things being a certain way was making things worse. I was also annoyed with myself now. The more I “tried” to be patient and accepting about the flies, the worse I felt. All this effort was adding unnecessary layers of suffering to my experience. More words. I already knew this. I had heard this advice many times in the past: “Stop making effort. When you practice just allow everything to be exactly as it is.”

On this morning, I was sitting in a sheltered spot near the river under an old Holm Oak. If you observed me from a distance you might think that I was in heaven. I didn’t feel like I was in heaven as a solitary fly methodically explored the back of my hand and several more buzzed dangerously close to my face. A question came to mind: in this moment what would actually happen if I did nothing and allowed EVERYTHING to be exactly as it is? I began conducting my experiment.

First things first – what was my actual experience in this moment?

I was tired. Fine, allow that to be as it is. Don’t resist it or ignore it or try to change it. You’re tired. Don’t even intentionally explore the experience of being tired.

I noticed some tension in my shoulders and face. Fine, allow there to be tension in your shoulders. That’s the way it is right now.

I noticed an urge to relax my shoulders. Fine, allow that urge to just be there. Don’t follow the urge, don’t resist the urge, just acknowledge it.

I noticed a recurring thought – “when will the next bloody fly land on my face!” Fine, allow that thought to be there. Don’t cling to the thought, don’t push it away, don’t try to change it.

I noticed the tension in my shoulders softened a little bit as if by itself. Fine, I just noticed that feeling of relaxation.

I noticed more thoughts – “ok Barry, you might feel more relaxed now but just wait until the next fly lands on your face, you’ll be back to square one!” Same approach. Allow the thoughts to just be there. Let them come and let them go. Don’t interfere. Don’t analyse.

I noticed the fly which had been meandering on my hand suddenly take flight and a moment later land on my cheek. This was it! What would happen if I just allowed that fly to be there on my face?

I noticed all kinds of things. I noticed a feeling excitement, as if I was a scientist reaching the pivotal moment of his experiment. Fine, allow that feeling of excitement to be there. The initial tiredness I felt at the start was gone.

I noticed very intense, unpleasant sensations on my face as the fly moved around. Fine, allow those sensations to be there.

I noticed thoughts telling me how I “should” react to the fly with imperturbable equanimity. Fine, more thoughts. Don’t try to stop them. Let them be there.

I noticed other thoughts telling me to abandon this stupid experiment and try to whack the fly… even if that meant slapping myself in the face! Fine, allow those thoughts to be there.

As I followed this unfolding series of experiences an interesting thing happened. The fly was still on my face but because the focus of my practice was simply exploring what would happen if I allowed it and everything else to be there exactly as it was, there was a natural softening. Whatever happened was fine. If I felt irritation about the fly…fine. If I felt acceptance about the fly…fine. There was no longer any effort, just awareness.

I started to notice other things which I had not been aware of before. I could hear the steady sound of the river flowing. I could feel the subtle change in temperature on my skin as the wind increased in intensity and then stopped. I was aware of the weight of my body and the contact between my body and the earth. The fly was no longer the focus of my attention. Whatever I was aware of, the approach was the same. Let it be exactly as it is. There was a naturally occurring state of peace and deep stillness. If I had tried I could never have experienced this. It didn’t last. It never does. As always some random thought about the past or the future came along and carried me away from the present moment. I was lost in a daydream for a while. No longer aware of my experience.

What brought me back to the present moment?

The familiar feeling of a fly landing on my face. Except this time my natural response was to smile: “thank you for reminding me to bring my attention back to the present Mr Fly”! I noticed the feeling of gratitude and appreciation. The sensations were no longer unpleasant. With each movement the fly was reminding me to stay here with my present moment experience. That fly was my teacher. Nature was my teacher.

So you’ve read this short story. More words. More intellectual ideas. Maybe you agree and you have decided to accept the idea or maybe you disagree and have decided to reject the idea. It doesn’t matter. An intellectual understanding of something is not the same as a lived experience.  Trust me… you need to find out for yourself. Carry out your own experiment. Sit quietly under a tree and see what happens when you allow EVERYTHING to be exactly as it is.