After taking the weekend off from *everything*: sitting, writing, & blogging, this morning I sat about 10 minutes, just dipping the tip of my toe back into the water of practice.
I was intrigued to read Beth's comments about online vs. "real" relationships. For as much "mingling" as I do online, in my real life I'm almost hermit-like, interacting with folks at school and then spending nearly the rest of my time alone.
Some while back someone asked me whether it was difficult to find "like-minded people" in Keene, and I realized I've never really *tried* to find like-minded people. I just do my thing and, like Beth, don't have much patience for chitchat.
If that means I spend a lot of time doing quiet, seemingly lonely things like reading, writing, or meditating...well, who's complaining about *that*? I suppose it's no accident that one of my favorite books is May Sarton's *Journal of a Solitude,* written while she lived in Nelson, NH, which quite coincidentally is about 20 minutes down the road from Keene. With a library of books, the ability to check email, and paper & pen, is one every *really* alone?
Physical therapy to try to strengthen an old injury area is taking a lot of time, and I haven't quite balanced it with the meditation time. I have a plan, though, so I expect good things to come.
I've found the discussions of separation very interesting. Jean, your post on that was moving, thank you for sharing it. There is something oxymoronic or maybe surreal about internet relationships. In some ways, the internet seems to help me break through isolation, yet there's always a kind of distance/disconnection that makes the quality of relationship different from fully 3-dimensional and present company. There's good and bad in that, perhaps. Though I have a friend who views computers as evil for the disconnection (of myriad kinds) that they create and, ironically, I am not unsympathetic to that luddite view.
Connections. I am spending a lot of my time alone at the moment,as I am not working regularly and I live on my own. Sometimes I fight it; other times am truly grateful.
I have to be honest and say that at the moment I am feeling my aloneness in spite of the good friends that I do have - it's one of the emotions that comes up a lot in my meditations. But it is the ultimate challenge for me - to come to embrace this and assimilate it. It's the only way. I've chosen this task, I believe, this time around (and I feel emotional just writing about this).
Lorianne: I loved "Journal of a Solitude"! I didn't realise May Sarton lived so close to you ..
'sat' today in my yoga class. felt very present with the breath and body, even if the breathing is all the opposite way round to the way (vanda scaravelli) that i learned and it made sense; still makes sense, so i held my connection and was glad for it being on my doorstep at the foot of a mountain in the middle of nowhere in the sun outdoors late november in not my mother tongue....
i guess on the efriend front, like with the quote about being a monk or a nun or getting married, there is nothing like the physical and spiritual auras coming into contact for a real challenge...
family here and chatting downstairs as I write, and so far feels good. Even if i spent the whole day cleaning - cleaning is cleansing and a good way to practice almost everything. Presence, mandala (blow it away - it will be dirty tomorrow) and creating a beautiful space for not just me.....
Mary, thanks. It's actually not painful per se, but a terribly inhibited and unreliable joint, so I decided to bite the bullet and do something about it to make it less so. Now these exercises are hard, but they'll be good for me.
Moose, good luck with your healing. Mary, loneliness is something I really fear, having been in a couple for my entire adult life. I suspect I'd try to do what you're doing - accept and work with it. But it would be immensely difficult for me. I admire Jean and Lorianne for their apparent ability to live alone, gracefully.
I sat for a few minutes first thing on Monday morning, but not yet on Tuesday (it's 2 pm on Tuesday now)- overslept and didn't have time. I have much less feeling than I did that even one missed session will prove to be an irrevocable break - don't intend today to be a miss, though.
I find myself agreeing with seemingly opposing views in this discussion on separation and connection, just as I did when I wrote about it in my blog back in the summer. I don't think it's really much to do with how much physical time you spend alone or with others (though, obviously, changing feelings and perceptions may end up impacting on this). More about how it feels, and how many choices and reactions come out of defensiveness, and wanting to flow from alone to together more seemlessly, and not to experience them as so opposite.
Mary's remark about feeling as though you chose a solitary life 'this time around' brings up so much for me. I don't think I believe in reincarnation in any personal, conscious sense (though, you never know - and 21st century science certainly doesn't). So I don't really look to having another 'time around', which doesn't help with acceptance. The balance between seeking acceptance and trying to feel less disempowered by life is both easier and harder than it seems, I think - not really a contradiction, but it sometimes feels like one. And as for living alone gracefully - nope! Well, perhaps in the sense of being self-sufficient in day-to-day matters and taking real pleasure in doing many things alone - yes. But I also have a profound sense that life is not meant to be this. The likelihood of living 20, 30, 40 years more and never again sharing my bed or my breakfast is only bearable one day at a time. So, yes, the balance between acceptance of what it and determination to keep seeking another way, between seeking calm and trying to make space for energy.... Aargh, enough!...
Ah, now I understand, I think: you say 'jinx' when similar thoughts or actions coincide, like we say 'snap'? I've often been puzzled by this use of the word.
9 Comments:
After taking the weekend off from *everything*: sitting, writing, & blogging, this morning I sat about 10 minutes, just dipping the tip of my toe back into the water of practice.
I was intrigued to read Beth's comments about online vs. "real" relationships. For as much "mingling" as I do online, in my real life I'm almost hermit-like, interacting with folks at school and then spending nearly the rest of my time alone.
Some while back someone asked me whether it was difficult to find "like-minded people" in Keene, and I realized I've never really *tried* to find like-minded people. I just do my thing and, like Beth, don't have much patience for chitchat.
If that means I spend a lot of time doing quiet, seemingly lonely things like reading, writing, or meditating...well, who's complaining about *that*? I suppose it's no accident that one of my favorite books is May Sarton's *Journal of a Solitude,* written while she lived in Nelson, NH, which quite coincidentally is about 20 minutes down the road from Keene. With a library of books, the ability to check email, and paper & pen, is one every *really* alone?
Physical therapy to try to strengthen an old injury area is taking a lot of time, and I haven't quite balanced it with the meditation time. I have a plan, though, so I expect good things to come.
I've found the discussions of separation very interesting. Jean, your post on that was moving, thank you for sharing it. There is something oxymoronic or maybe surreal about internet relationships. In some ways, the internet seems to help me break through isolation, yet there's always a kind of distance/disconnection that makes the quality of relationship different from fully 3-dimensional and present company. There's good and bad in that, perhaps. Though I have a friend who views computers as evil for the disconnection (of myriad kinds) that they create and, ironically, I am not unsympathetic to that luddite view.
Planning to sit this afternoon.
*jinxxxx* Lorianne! You posted right when I did. :-)
Yes, I sat for 10-15 minutes this morning.
Connections. I am spending a lot of my time alone at the moment,as I am not working regularly and I live on my own. Sometimes I fight it; other times am truly grateful.
I have to be honest and say that at the moment I am feeling my aloneness in spite of the good friends that I do have - it's one of the emotions that comes up a lot in my meditations. But it is the ultimate challenge for me - to come to embrace this and assimilate it. It's the only way. I've chosen this task, I believe, this time around (and I feel emotional just writing about this).
Lorianne: I loved "Journal of a Solitude"! I didn't realise May Sarton lived so close to you ..
Moose: hope the injury mends well and that it isn't too painful ...
'sat' today in my yoga class. felt very present with the breath and body, even if the breathing is all the opposite way round to the way (vanda scaravelli) that i learned and it made sense; still makes sense, so i held my connection and was glad for it being on my doorstep at the foot of a mountain in the middle of nowhere in the sun outdoors late november in not my mother tongue....
i guess on the efriend front, like with the quote about being a monk or a nun or getting married, there is nothing like the physical and spiritual auras coming into contact for a real challenge...
family here and chatting downstairs as I write, and so far feels good. Even if i spent the whole day cleaning - cleaning is cleansing and a good way to practice almost everything. Presence, mandala (blow it away - it will be dirty tomorrow) and creating a beautiful space for not just me.....
Mary, thanks. It's actually not painful per se, but a terribly inhibited and unreliable joint, so I decided to bite the bullet and do something about it to make it less so. Now these exercises are hard, but they'll be good for me.
Moose, good luck with your healing. Mary, loneliness is something I really fear, having been in a couple for my entire adult life. I suspect I'd try to do what you're doing - accept and work with it. But it would be immensely difficult for me. I admire Jean and Lorianne for their apparent ability to live alone, gracefully.
Sat this morning, early.
I sat for a few minutes first thing on Monday morning, but not yet on Tuesday (it's 2 pm on Tuesday now)- overslept and didn't have time. I have much less feeling than I did that even one missed session will prove to be an irrevocable break - don't intend today to be a miss, though.
I find myself agreeing with seemingly opposing views in this discussion on separation and connection, just as I did when I wrote about it in my blog back in the summer. I don't think it's really much to do with how much physical time you spend alone or with others (though, obviously, changing feelings and perceptions may end up impacting on this). More about how it feels, and how many choices and reactions come out of defensiveness, and wanting to flow from alone to together more seemlessly, and not to experience them as so opposite.
Mary's remark about feeling as though you chose a solitary life 'this time around' brings up so much for me. I don't think I believe in reincarnation in any personal, conscious sense (though, you never know - and 21st century science certainly doesn't). So I don't really look to having another 'time around', which doesn't help with acceptance. The balance between seeking acceptance and trying to feel less disempowered by life is both easier and harder than it seems, I think - not really a contradiction, but it sometimes feels like one. And as for living alone gracefully - nope! Well, perhaps in the sense of being self-sufficient in day-to-day matters and taking real pleasure in doing many things alone - yes. But I also have a profound sense that life is not meant to be this. The likelihood of living 20, 30, 40 years more and never again sharing my bed or my breakfast is only bearable one day at a time. So, yes, the balance between acceptance of what it and determination to keep seeking another way, between seeking calm and trying to make space for energy.... Aargh, enough!...
Ah, now I understand, I think: you say 'jinx' when similar thoughts or actions coincide, like we say 'snap'? I've often been puzzled by this use of the word.
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