To time my meditation sessions, I set the timer on my phone to go off at ten minutes with a soothing, harp sound. Today, I didn't even think about the time. What I did think about was worrying about what I might write about whatever experience I was having. So, yay blog! Great idea, right? Now that someone might actually read this, I was trying to document my experience as I went. I find this interesting because, when I took my Contemplative Traditions class in college, I never experienced such anxiety about my meditation journal. It always just occurs to me how more at peace I was with who I was back then. It sure didn't seem like it at the time, but I wasn't out to impress anybody. But now I try to set a good example for my staff at work, and others that I know are having difficulties with their lives. And I know what a stress monkey I am, and I am aware that I'm not following how I believe my life should be lived. So my mind even freezes up as I try to write about an experience that seemed to go well. And although I preach about how it's important just to try, just to do, whether you meet your goal or not, clearly it's not easy for me to follow those same words.
It seems to me that every moment of every day a million, gajillion thoughts are processed through my fickle mind. Most of those thoughts will pass without my even knowing I had them. When I'm meditating, I'm forced to deal with each thought as it comes up. I see it, I let it go. Sometimes it's not easy. Sometimes I see it and I wonder why this thought or image is there. But either way, I'm forced to reckon with what is cluttering up my air waves. Curious. I would like to say that I look forward to the day that I've exercised my brain enough that it doesn't wander so, and I can more effectively deal with the moment on-hand. But that wouldn't be very zen. So I will just say that I am glad that I sat today.
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