I know I’m in this dynamic when I feel an underlying sense of gratitude, for no apparent reason (like a continuous bass in a piece of music). In ‘response’, I’m sometimes given a fluidity, an ease in external events, resulting in joy and lightness, but this isn’t necessary to perceive this sound.
I know I’m not there when I feel that life is a burden, an enormous task. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this weight in an overwhelming way, but it can resurface as a trace. So I immediately denounce it.

I know this because I’m seeing the weight of the past being uprooted from my daily life. And I occasionally spot a few limitations rooted in the past. So I’m determined to sweep all that away. One illustration of this is the absence (or at least a marked reduction) in my procrastination. When I take action without waiting, I have the distinct feeling that I’m relieving myself of a potential burden from the past: because procrastination encourages us to delay and postpone taking action, we quickly find ourselves encumbered by what we refused to do. So we’re left with a burden of the un-done but still-to-be-done past, which exhausts and pollutes our vitality. But I also have the feeling that I still have a lot of work to do in this area.
It’s very clear to me that this work of cleaning up the past necessarily involves, in my case, a daily practice of releasing the tensions that have built up in my body, to allow them to dissolve naturally. Simply by giving them space to dissolve, under the light of a non-voluntary, but simply observant and benevolent attention. I have the intuition that this ‘tool’, as far as I’m concerned, is of primordial importance at the moment. I even have the impression that I was getting hints over the last year to return to a daily practice of chi-kung. As if those hints were preparing me by leading me to actions that I now realize the significance of.
I’ve noticed that once these inner impulses have been respected, taken on board and put into action, the universe presents me with circumstances or understandings, and even aids that validate this work. It’s as if the universe is collaborating with me from the moment I place myself in the direction of the current of life. This doesn’t necessarily mean that everything becomes easy, but even when circumstances require even more effort, I’m convinced that what I’m doing is right (“right” in the sense of “following the flow of life and participating in it at the right time”).
Not being in the flow of real life currently represents for me the opposite behaviours to those I’ve just described: procrastinating, accumulating tension in my body and justifying it with judgements or accusations, forgetting my creative power in the service of life, allowing myself (out of sheer laziness, cowardice or immediate self-interest) to be hypnotised by identifications. Not taking into account the inner impulses that can flow through me, allowing myself to be swayed by doubt, particularly in relation to the new and the unknown, not daring to experience openness (and possibly the necessary suffering that I may receive through this openness). And above all, at the moment, DON’T DARE: don’t recognise the creative power within me, don’t trust it, castrate it, mainly by refusing to surrender to it…

I know I’m in the dynamic of real life when I’m surprised, in the childlike sense of the word, by the magical unfolding of life at every moment, by what manifests itself and lovingly responds to my intentions, whether I’m aware of it or not.
By the subtle and permanent reminder that “I” am a participating manifestation of this same real life, born of the same non-matter, linked by the fascias of the universe.
I delude myself that I’m not there when I think I’m a separate entity controlling the course of ‘my’ life.
When my body tenses up and I can no longer feel the dance of the thousands (millions? billions?) of cells that make it up.
When the veil of the mind gone mad, instilling fear and doubt, hides beauty from me.

I know, or rather I feel, that I am in the dynamic of Real life when I let my heart speak and my mind is its servant. So I play, like a child on a sandy beach, I play and I rejoice. But not only that: sometimes, like the child in the sand, I play and get sand in my eyes, so I cry. In any case, I live! I feel the vibration of life inside me with a gentle intensity, and amazement is present at almost every moment. Then comes the gratitude of an adult, grateful for everything, absolutely everything, that makes up ‘my’ life.
When I’m not in the dynamic of Real life, I feel a bit numb, and this is one of the criteria that, when I spot it, makes me shake myself existentially and even physically sometimes (as dogs do), as if to ‘dispel the spell’. This ‘spell’ that I’ve created for myself, out of laziness or a refusal to feel the necessary suffering, or because I’m not yet mature enough to face up to a life circumstance and see it in all its impersonal nakedness.

I know I’m in the dynamic of real life when I feel existential relaxation, with an open heart, whatever the circumstances. This happens more often when I’m alone, out for a walk or simply in nature.
On the other hand, when I feel tension, it’s because my identity has become tense, and I’ve withdrawn from real life. There may be ruminations, or emotions like anger, for example. This happens to me more often when I’m in contact, interacting with people.

I’m there when there’s trust, and also awareness in what I’m doing or saying, even if sometimes it’s messy, although sincere.
I’m not there when the mind is intrusive and I lose contact both with my environment and with the feeling of confidence in my chest.

The confidence I have in Life is a precious witness to real life, as is the absence of fear.
I’m not there when I’m asking myself certain questions, when I’m preoccupied, as happened to me recently, with the health pass, the compulsory professional seminar, the fact that I no longer have a doctor, the pending application to renew my teleworking contract; by welcoming powerlessness, I felt confidence, relaxation, I rediscovered wonder.

When I am in body consciousness, I am “with myself” and in the world that unfolds in and through me with each breath.
When I feel physical tension and identify with the outside world, I lose touch with the real world within.

I know I’m in real life when I’m in body consciousness, in the moment.
I know I’m not when I shift this life into the mental and/or emotional spheres; somewhere other than in the moment.

I’m in this dynamic when I’m guided by joy and calm.
And it’s when worry or anger arise that I know I’m ‘slipping’. I also pay attention to the sadness that can emerge. In these cases, I ‘switch’ by watching a video or a text that inspires me, by listening to music that soothes me, or by singing, or by going for a walk whenever possible.
I also observe, when my ‘resistant’ side expresses itself, whether the desire to act comes from the heart or from the ego, and there I’m not quite there yet. So I go back to what I was doing before to refocus before making decisions.

I know more easily when I am not in the dynamics of real life. The proof is in the identification with negative emotions and internal considerations. With the characteristic presence of an inner monologue that seems credible to me.
When I’m in the dynamics of real life, I generally don’t notice it at the time. I notice it more on reflection, once I’ve slipped on a mental banana peel and have to retrace my steps to see what went wrong. I’d sum up my thoughts on being in the dynamic of real life this way: I do what needs to be done as if what’s happening in my consciousness is the most interesting thing in the world. There’s no emotional or psychological differentiation between when something goes wrong and when it goes right.

I tend to say that being in real life = being in body consciousness = being in existential relaxation. Which doesn’t mean that there aren’t physical tensions or external conflicts, but it’s still about accepting that ‘what is’ is, without unnecessary identifications or suffering.
And when I’m not in the dynamic of real life, it’s because I’m identified with a belief, a concept, something that deprives me of the freedom to respond innocently to the present moment.