heavy baggage under dropping eyes.
i wanna do everything but sit in silence, everything but get closer to insides.
it feels as if all of me is telling me not to. its ok, everything tells myself, you can miss just one more sit.
but it is my rebellious spirit, my forever guide (and misguide at times), that wants to disobey these posturings of support.
yesterday night I made a mistake. I make mistakes kinda often, I suppose. Been alone in my head and heart for so many years that I forget where I’m at sometimes. People know this about me, my fam especially. And it’s with this knowledge that I’m known by folks to be irresponsible, careless, forgetful, tardy to the party, spacey, clumsy, etc.
Since learning this, I really do try to be less of those things. but when I do exhibit those qualities, I judge myself with the voice of those who have judged me, and hard. Yesterday was one of those days. And as a strange (and mean) punishment, I told myself that I don’t deserve to sit because if i cannot have my mindfulness shift from meditation to my day-to-day then fuck it.
these were my stories yesterday in the thick of it.
today i sat. because i do make mistakes. the fucking end.
i hold tension- my jaw tightens, my stomach locks, my eyebrows furrow, my shoulders become friendly with my ears. and when i sit, my purpose is to notice, so i notice these parts held and i loosen my grip and release. but its because im sitting in place with the purpose of noticing that release happens. how often in my day, with all the movings, reactivities and stressors, do i notice when i hold, grip and tighten the many parts of me that want to be free?
how often can i notice it now?
the more mindfulness penetrates my practice, the more i am released from time’s grasp.
the question of “is it almost over?” will be less and less a place of focus.
when i cease holding focus with my breath, when my thoughts, stories and imaginings begin to hold me instead, physical discomfort (and essentially most internal sensations-pleasant, neutral and unpleasant) cease to be noticed as well.
how often am i held by mental activity of what had once existed, can possibly exist or will exist, instead of feeling the seemingly imperceptible and constant change that drives my body and spirit?
how often do i use distraction as a method of leaning away from discomfort? when am i able to lean towards it?
beautiful poetics in the forms of words, pictures and other imaginings move through my mind while meditating.
it’s during these moments that i notice three observations:
1. i enjoy so thoroughly getting lost in the beautiful.
2. i crave to possess all which i imagine because i fear i will lose them if i don’t.
3. these imaginings veer me from learning quiet more deeply.
to know that i have been in an illusion of thick grey
means that i am less in illusion than just a moment ago.
scattered particles of dust
reflecting coming light
i can see a little color now.