Friday, June 11, 2010
Mama said there'd be days like this.
Like every other member of my species, I am a storyteller. My mind is at all times narrating the events of life, trying to explain why I feel a certain way, for instance, or what I'm experiencing. Though intensely creative by their very nature, these stories are nothing more than that, just stories. We need stories, we do have to navigate through the complexities and the paradoxes of life after all, though it's important not to swallow the stories hook, line and sinker.
This is the very reason I meditate every morning. Meditation allows me the opportunity to unhinge from my stories, to detach, temporarily, from the big ole structures my mind has created. It clears the decks, takes me back to the drawing board where I can begin to build my version of the world in story all over again.
Lord knows, I tried to meditate this morning. I sat where I always sit when I meditate. Forty minutes went by according to the clock in my room. Ah but I did not find one second of peace. My head was full of words words words, stories, self recrimination and self blame and for heaven's sake, what was that all about? How is it possible to wag a finger at yourself? Makes my wrist hurt to even imagine it. When I woke up I felt dreamy and soft and happy. What happened in between then and meditation time? Huh?
Right now my head is beginning to construct a story about why everything went downhill so fast. Whoa. I say: WHOA there Nelly (speaking to my head). Some days are not made for peace, so what? I'll try again tomorrow, and maybe by then I'll find a second or two of quiet on the meditation cushion. You think? Hope so.
A peaceful Friday to all!