A lot of activity has occurred over the past week. Have been moving around a lot. There’s been so much to see. So much action. Life and world developments. Keep keep going. Keep reading and hearing about stranger and stranger news. Keep writing and keep growing and experiencing and trying more ambitious things.
So no wonder this morning hit and it felt impossible to get up. No wonder three hours shot by with the eye-opening realization that nothing had actually been accomplished today.
Eventually a few things happened. A walk. An attempt at writing. Cooking up some food. A beautiful nap (maybe doesn’t count as accomplishment). Lots of water and tea. Meditating.
Have only just started trying that last one. They say meditation helps. I don’t know who They is. But They are right. Positive changes start to appear even after a week or two of persistence. But the act has a misconception about it. That you will sit there until your mind clears and empties, or you’ll fail.
But that’s not how the mind works. A blissed-out brain drain is the stuff of hypno-fantasies that fetishists (like myself, I’ll admit) work into their erotic daydreams. I, for instance, had a recurring sex dream this morning where I was staring at a soft light and chanting submissive phrases to a dominant figure offstage who I never see, until everything feels fuzzy. Then I woke up. A sex dream without sex.
But anyway. That’s me. And that’s way beside the point.
Meditation is not what I just described. It’s the opposite of a haze. It’s alert. Aware. A check-in. What are you feeling, thinking, hearing, remembering? Where does it hurt? Where does it tingle? How’s the weather in your mind today? That’s all.
And weirdly, that’s so much. It somehow starts to clear space in your head, for feelings to emerge and make themselves felt. Joy can spring up and surprise you, and so can tears. Sometimes they do that in a movie or ad that you don’t even think is very good. Moments of quiet also assert themselves in the middle of a chaotic work day or a whirlwind to-do list. Stop. Contemplate. Plan your immediate next move, and just go from there.
And tonight, the body is so tired. There’s a brilliant full moon outside that’s supposedly about harnessing creativity, but working on projects today felt exhausting, and the words and lines didn’t quite feel right. Also it seems like whenever the moon does anything, someone shouts that it’s the perfect time to do some kind of creative or romantic thing.
Anyway. The body is tired now. And you feel that too. So you sit on your bed with your hands on your knees. You close your eyes and inhale through your nose, and you listen to your breath coming slowly in and out. It sounds like ocean waves pulling in and crashing over themselves. It calms. Clears. And it’s all connected.
Or something like that.