Sunday morning--4:35am. I stand in front of my apartment's sliding-glass door, sipping coffee and watching the rain fall on the black, glistening asphalt several-floors below. Bach's BRANDENBURG CONCERTO No. 6 plays in the background on NPR. Neville Marriner's Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields brings out the warmth and plushness of the piece. They don't rush it, allowing the melody to fully issue forth from their period instruments.
This synchronicity of rain, music, and sumptuous coffee (Columbian, with French Vanilla creamer, of course) are simply occurrences in this vastness that is both you and me. Though I will likely get soaked on my short walk to work, that is also an occurrence. One could label the trek as fun or a pain, I suppose. But events are rarely labeled in this body/mind anymore. Occasionally, there is the rhetorical "Oh, man!" But it is more of a hollow response rather than a visceral emotion.
Even with my large umbrella, my shoes are going to get drenched. So I'll carry an extra pair of dry socks. One responds to the situation at hand and moves on. When you are living from the felt position of presence, you aren't overly dwelling on changing events. And this occurs naturally. It isn't something you must strive to accomplished. It is simply you, living in and as that peace that passes all understanding.