There he is in a full-page wristwatch advertisement, resting his chin on his hand, ear close enough to his wrist to hear the ticking of that fat, posh wristwatch strapped there as if it were a gang of Tibetan monks beating on his front door. If he’s a Buddhist, isn’t he supposed to live in the moment? Is he the right guy to be advertising watches?

I have a problem with the expression “live in the moment” anyway. It strikes me as like dancing in a darkened disco with a strobe light going. Living in this moment, and this moment, ad infinitum. Tick, tick, tick.

It’s better, isn’t it, to jump into the tao? Not to go with the flow, but to be it?

And don’t forget the details. The golden flecks in his eyes, the deep blue of hers, the bloody veins in mine.