no time except to say from an internat cafe that I get such strength from you all, especially the brave and honest posts of late. feels like spiritual weigh watchers! so off i go to rehearse in toulouse and i HAVE meditated both mornings!!!love to you all.
Hmm. Sat for 20 minutes this lunchtime. The first time since Thursday.
Wrote a very long comment in response to all your wonderful and thoughtprovoking ones of the past few days. It disappeared. Sigh. Not inclined to write all that again. Thank you all for being here. I am still here. That's all really.
Sat Sunday when i was feeling very stressed. A huge difference how I felt afterwards - calmer, quieter, reassured. Went on to have a really normal day in the company of a good friend. Lovely. Thank you all. Whenever I post an even halfway revelatory post I never want to return here, but I am always glad I do.
On reflection (and having read Mary's last comment and blinked and thought: "but all your comments reflect your strength and sensitivity and articulacy and are entirely lovable and admirable - why would you feel uncomfortable about them?", but I know why, of course), it's both lazy and cowardly not to rewrite what I wrote before and lost in cyberspace.
I didn't meditate on Friday, Saturday or Sunday. Felt depressed and apathetic. And this it mostly just overtiredness, really, I think.
This might have been the end of my commitment, if I hadn't come here today and so loved reading all your comments. It was lunchtime. I seized the moment, locked my office door and sat for 20 minutes. It was a bit scary. I at once felt the level of my tension - fast and thunderous pounding in my head and all my pulse points. Not sure if this was raised blood pressure or just heightened sensitivity. Anyway, it calmed down a lot in 20 minutes.
I think this is/you are what I always wanted. When I've meditated with other people, lately anyway, it's mostly been on silent retreats. And sharing silence is lovely and precious. But I've often felt the need to talk about it too. (there's often time to talk at the end of a silent retreat, but it's a really weird time to have a conversation).
Beth, thinking of you trying to go slower and give your body time to heal, and how hard that is. And admiring how well you know yourself, but I know that isn't always enough. I get so angry and sad about this addiction to constantly doing that is so fundamental to 'the way we live now'. The combination of talent and competence with sensitivity and creativity often makes a wonderful person, like Beth, I think. But aren't qualities that sit easily together. And the social pressure all being in one direction doesn't help.
It's one of the obvious things that makes meditation hard for all of us, to differing degrees, I guess. Look at all those youngsters who become monks and nuns in Eastern Buddhist societies, for all sorts - not least economic - of reasons. They don't seem to have the struggle with the lifestyle that your average Western pre-teen or teenager would have, do they?
Dale, are you getting enough sleep? Do you always sleep so little? If not, might this have any bearing on losing your temper, do you think? I'm trying not to leap so instantly to judging myself and others, so I'll just say that I was very surprised to learn that you only lose your temper a couple of times a year, and this consists of nothing more explosive than *hissing*. I don't know anyone, including some very kind and peaceful people, of whom this is true. I'm so sorry it made you feel bad, though.
Mary, I was really moved by what you said about your overdeveloped escaping habits. I definitely have those too. I hate it. Feels like a huge and damaging impulse to annihilate myself. Why is it so hard to stay present and aware in the face of discomfort and remember that it's impermanent? I'm glad you had a nice day on Sunday. It seems like a simple thing to meditate for a few minutes. But when you feel like that it's not simple at all.
Ruth, hope you find some corners of time and space in which to be quiet while you're away on tour this time. Sounds like you are.
Well, I really can't remember what else I was going to sayxxxx
I'm so glad you reposted. Thanks Jean, and thanks everyone!
Sat last night, though for the second week running I didn't want to go to the sangha. Just tired, tired, tired. -- No, Jean, not getting enough sleep. I've been getting four or five hours a night for the past week or two -- I don't ordinarily need a whole lot of sleep but I do need more than that.
Anyway, I'll go to the sangha next week. & I have to go the week after that, because I umze. (I marvel at you all, being able to go on meditating without having non-virtual commitments to kick your bottoms periodically. I don't know if I could do it.)
Mary, I had a problematic relationship with alcohol for about fifteen years -- dunno if it qualified as alcoholic; I didn't think so at the time; but I wonder now.
Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, btw, used to say that the only Western spiritual path that seemed to him to have much in common with Buddhism was AA. (He knew a bit about drinking problems himself -- speaking of problematic gurus! Yi.)
I'm so glad you came back, Jean! And I think it's wonderful that you're being able to meditate on the road, Ruth.
Jean: Thank you so much for reposting. Yes, it sounds like overtiredness to me, sleep and rest may be what is needed. I am so glad you are back!
Dale: Thanks for that Rinpoche information. I hadn't heard that Buddhism/AA comment.
The following William James excerpt from The Varieties of Religious Experience is as well (in my view) right on the button:
"The sway of alcohol over mankind in unquestionably due to its power to stimulate the mystical faculties of human nature, usually crushed to earth by the cold facts and dry criticisms of the sober hour .... The drunken consciousness is one bit of the mystic consciousness, and our total opinion of it must find its place in our opinion of that larger whole".
One of my posts disappeared also (from Friday I think?). But I won't repost as it now seems off subject.
I made it through the weekend sitting each day for a short while. Though Saturday was a meager 11th hour effort, it was nice to actually follow through.
Thank you all for your wonderful posts over the past few days. I've been going through a stretch of discouragement and discontentment for no identifiable reason. All of you are great examples of steadfastness in the face of struggle and a great inspiration to me. xoxox
Just read today's comments and was very moved, especially by what you wrote, Jean. I'm so glad you re-posted. One thing we all seem to have in common is a well-developed ability to be really hard on ourselves. That can be a by-product of a (rare) willingness to look at oneself throughout life - which is a good thing, yes? do I hear you all cheering? - but when it results in depression and lack of self-forgiveness and tormenting of oneself it's not so great.
This space is something I really need, especailly right now as I try to re-assess and re-prioritize some things in my life to reduce stress. I still feel a little tentative and nervous about writing here and about being too self-revelatory. My blog, though, won't work that way - it's too public and too many family members read it - and dealign with them is part of my problem. So I'm grateful for this and for you all. It feels kind of scary though.
Yesterday a friend, a family physician who is a neighbor, called me on the phone after hearing I'd been ill. He listened to what I was saying, and heard the anxiety in my voice about feeling vulnerable and traumatized, and yet knowing I had to make changes. Then he said, "You know, when things like this happen to people they think they have to change everything - start over again from square one. But it's not necessarily beneficial to change everything, because a lot of it is what makes you who you are - and those are good things. So you don't need to worry about changing everything. You just need to make some adjustments." It was just about the best thing anyone could have said to me, and I am sure he's right - he sees it all the time. And it seemed like this might apply to others here, not just to me.
I chose not to sit today. I saved the time, cut a few other corners, and instead took a nap for an hour and a half this afternoon. I haven't been sleeping well and others in this house have colds and I was feeling lousily, precipitously, right on the edge. I hope to have forfended. I'm glad I made my choice, but I did miss sitting. I hope I'll have a little time this evening all the same.
As I sit here now facing this glowing screen, numbed by having just awoken at a strange hour of day, I can't think straight to respond to recent posts except to say: I have read them, I appreciate them, I value the presence here of each one of you, especially value the effort some are putting in for quick hellos, and those who haven't said much recently, so good to hear from you, I find it strange how quickly I grow fond of you all, I am grateful to be part of this, I had been planning to write more, but I'm out of sorts so this will have to do. That's the essence.
Beth, your friend sounds wise. If I added to your feeling of everything needing to change, by making a big thing of it, I didn't mean to - I think even small changes are really hard and need gentle nurturing by yourself and those who care for you.
Moose, your decision to sleep when you could sounds very wise. Hope you feel less on the edge, that's a horrid feeling. Hugs.
Beth: This "revelation" business is tricky, and is one of the reasons I haven't gone public with my real name, though if we were introduced in person I would have no qualms at all about disclosing it.
Maybe, just start with small disclosures and see how it feels, and then inch forward (or not)?. In blogland as in realtime, we are all different and what is right for one is not necessarily so for another.
Moose: sleep is good, give yourself lots of nurturing. Hugs.
Dale: forgot to give you a hug too in my last comment. [[Dale]]. I hope things will begin to feel easier for you soon.
Soon Joen: Rachel's poem is beautiful. Hoping the scars are healing nicely!
12 Comments:
no time except to say from an internat cafe that I get such strength from you all, especially the brave and honest posts of late. feels like spiritual weigh watchers! so off i go to rehearse in toulouse and i HAVE meditated both mornings!!!love to you all.
Hmm. Sat for 20 minutes this lunchtime. The first time since Thursday.
Wrote a very long comment in response to all your wonderful and thoughtprovoking ones of the past few days. It disappeared. Sigh. Not inclined to write all that again. Thank you all for being here. I am still here. That's all really.
Sat Sunday when i was feeling very stressed. A huge difference how I felt afterwards - calmer, quieter, reassured. Went on to have a really normal day in the company of a good friend. Lovely. Thank you all. Whenever I post an even halfway revelatory post I never want to return here, but I am always glad I do.
Sat this morning too. Glad I am doing this.
Spiritual weightwatchers. Ha!
On reflection (and having read Mary's last comment and blinked and thought: "but all your comments reflect your strength and sensitivity and articulacy and are entirely lovable and admirable - why would you feel uncomfortable about them?", but I know why, of course), it's both lazy and cowardly not to rewrite what I wrote before and lost in cyberspace.
I didn't meditate on Friday, Saturday or Sunday. Felt depressed and apathetic. And this it mostly just overtiredness, really, I think.
This might have been the end of my commitment, if I hadn't come here today and so loved reading all your comments. It was lunchtime. I seized the moment, locked my office door and sat for 20 minutes. It was a bit scary. I at once felt the level of my tension - fast and thunderous pounding in my head and all my pulse points. Not sure if this was raised blood pressure or just heightened sensitivity. Anyway, it calmed down a lot in 20 minutes.
I think this is/you are what I always wanted. When I've meditated with other people, lately anyway, it's mostly been on silent retreats. And sharing silence is lovely and precious. But I've often felt the need to talk about it too. (there's often time to talk at the end of a silent retreat, but it's a really weird time to have a conversation).
Beth, thinking of you trying to go slower and give your body time to heal, and how hard that is. And admiring how well you know yourself, but I know that isn't always enough. I get so angry and sad about this addiction to constantly doing that is so fundamental to 'the way we live now'. The combination of talent and competence with sensitivity and creativity often makes a wonderful person, like Beth, I think. But aren't qualities that sit easily together. And the social pressure all being in one direction doesn't help.
It's one of the obvious things that makes meditation hard for all of us, to differing degrees, I guess. Look at all those youngsters who become monks and nuns in Eastern Buddhist societies, for all sorts - not least economic - of reasons. They don't seem to have the struggle with the lifestyle that your average Western pre-teen or teenager would have, do they?
Dale, are you getting enough sleep? Do you always sleep so little? If not, might this have any bearing on losing your temper, do you think? I'm trying not to leap so instantly to judging myself and others, so I'll just say that I was very surprised to learn that you only lose your temper a couple of times a year, and this consists of nothing more explosive than *hissing*. I don't know anyone, including some very kind and peaceful people, of whom this is true. I'm so sorry it made you feel bad, though.
Mary, I was really moved by what you said about your overdeveloped escaping habits. I definitely have those too. I hate it. Feels like a huge and damaging impulse to annihilate myself. Why is it so hard to stay present and aware in the face of discomfort and remember that it's impermanent? I'm glad you had a nice day on Sunday. It seems like a simple thing to meditate for a few minutes. But when you feel like that it's not simple at all.
Ruth, hope you find some corners of time and space in which to be quiet while you're away on tour this time. Sounds like you are.
Well, I really can't remember what else I was going to sayxxxx
I'm so glad you reposted. Thanks Jean, and thanks everyone!
Sat last night, though for the second week running I didn't want to go to the sangha. Just tired, tired, tired. -- No, Jean, not getting enough sleep. I've been getting four or five hours a night for the past week or two -- I don't ordinarily need a whole lot of sleep but I do need more than that.
Anyway, I'll go to the sangha next week. & I have to go the week after that, because I umze. (I marvel at you all, being able to go on meditating without having non-virtual commitments to kick your bottoms periodically. I don't know if I could do it.)
Mary, I had a problematic relationship with alcohol for about fifteen years -- dunno if it qualified as alcoholic; I didn't think so at the time; but I wonder now.
Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, btw, used to say that the only Western spiritual path that seemed to him to have much in common with Buddhism was AA. (He knew a bit about drinking problems himself -- speaking of problematic gurus! Yi.)
I'm so glad you came back, Jean! And I think it's wonderful that you're being able to meditate on the road, Ruth.
Thank you all, so much.
Jean: Thank you so much for reposting. Yes, it sounds like overtiredness to me, sleep and rest may be what is needed. I am so glad you are back!
Dale: Thanks for that Rinpoche information. I hadn't heard that Buddhism/AA comment.
The following William James excerpt from The Varieties of Religious Experience is as well (in my view) right on the button:
"The sway of alcohol over mankind in unquestionably due to its power to stimulate the mystical faculties of human nature, usually crushed to earth by the cold facts and dry criticisms of the sober hour .... The drunken consciousness is one bit of the mystic consciousness, and our total opinion of it must find its place in our opinion of that larger whole".
40 days. Wow!
One of my posts disappeared also (from Friday I think?). But I won't repost as it now seems off subject.
I made it through the weekend sitting each day for a short while. Though Saturday was a meager 11th hour effort, it was nice to actually follow through.
Thank you all for your wonderful posts over the past few days. I've been going through a stretch of discouragement and discontentment for no identifiable reason. All of you are great examples of steadfastness in the face of struggle and a great inspiration to me.
xoxox
[[[aki]]]
Just read today's comments and was very moved, especially by what you wrote, Jean. I'm so glad you re-posted. One thing we all seem to have in common is a well-developed ability to be really hard on ourselves. That can be a by-product of a (rare) willingness to look at oneself throughout life - which is a good thing, yes? do I hear you all cheering? - but when it results in depression and lack of self-forgiveness and tormenting of oneself it's not so great.
This space is something I really need, especailly right now as I try to re-assess and re-prioritize some things in my life to reduce stress. I still feel a little tentative and nervous about writing here and about being too self-revelatory. My blog, though, won't work that way - it's too public and too many family members read it - and dealign with them is part of my problem. So I'm grateful for this and for you all. It feels kind of scary though.
Yesterday a friend, a family physician who is a neighbor, called me on the phone after hearing I'd been ill. He listened to what I was saying, and heard the anxiety in my voice about feeling vulnerable and traumatized, and yet knowing I had to make changes. Then he said, "You know, when things like this happen to people they think they have to change everything - start over again from square one. But it's not necessarily beneficial to change everything, because a lot of it is what makes you who you are - and those are good things. So you don't need to worry about changing everything. You just need to make some adjustments." It was just about the best thing anyone could have said to me, and I am sure he's right - he sees it all the time. And it seemed like this might apply to others here, not just to me.
I'm going to go sit now.
I chose not to sit today. I saved the time, cut a few other corners, and instead took a nap for an hour and a half this afternoon. I haven't been sleeping well and others in this house have colds and I was feeling lousily, precipitously, right on the edge. I hope to have forfended. I'm glad I made my choice, but I did miss sitting. I hope I'll have a little time this evening all the same.
As I sit here now facing this glowing screen, numbed by having just awoken at a strange hour of day, I can't think straight to respond to recent posts except to say:
I have read them,
I appreciate them,
I value the presence here of each one of you,
especially value the effort some are putting in for quick hellos,
and those who haven't said much recently,
so good to hear from you,
I find it strange how quickly I grow fond of you all,
I am grateful to be part of this, I had been planning to write more,
but I'm out of sorts so this will have to do.
That's the essence.
Beth, your friend sounds wise. If I added to your feeling of everything needing to change, by making a big thing of it, I didn't mean to - I think even small changes are really hard and need gentle nurturing by yourself and those who care for you.
Moose, your decision to sleep when you could sounds very wise. Hope you feel less on the edge, that's a horrid feeling. Hugs.
Beth: This "revelation" business is tricky, and is one of the reasons I haven't gone public with my real name, though if we were introduced in person I would have no qualms at all about disclosing it.
Maybe, just start with small disclosures and see how it feels, and then inch forward (or not)?. In blogland as in realtime, we are all different and what is right for one is not necessarily so for another.
Moose: sleep is good, give yourself lots of nurturing. Hugs.
Dale: forgot to give you a hug too in my last comment. [[Dale]]. I hope things will begin to feel easier for you soon.
Soon Joen: Rachel's poem is beautiful. Hoping the scars are healing nicely!
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