Sitting this morning was a blurry nightmare … all the snippets of last night’s conversations looping in my head … and memories – past memories, present memories and future memories
What do you do on a day like this, when everything broken is barely held together by duct tape? All I really needed yesterday was someone holding me and not letting go. And a good cry.
Really fierce windstorms have knocked out the power lines in many areas … rather nice living by candlelight, but very cold since the heating in our apartment block is electric … and NO COFFEE !!!
Tired, so tired … and cold.
Outside it’s warmer, so I walked and walked and walked … home again and the power is back on, and I’m making Hungarian Mushroom Soup with lots of paprika and sour cream … comfort food.
[[[Janice]]]. Virtual hugs speeding across the time zones to you. The storms sound quite something and while candlelight is nice, no coffee is not funny and nor is cold and fatigue. The soup is a really good idea. Comfort food but healthy comfort food so no guilt later ;-).
I sat this morning for 20 mins. Emotional. Life, meditation and blogging between them seem to bringing a lot of emotions to the surface. I'm actually really really glad because it feels like progress.
When the Buddha said that suffering is all-pervasive, he meant it. Sometimes we can see it. Seeing it is a gift, or it can be, if it we understand it as such.
People ordinarily tell you to cheer up and not to think about it, which I think is the worst advice you could possibly get. Our situation really is desperate. We set ourselves up for this misery over and over and over.
Moments like this, when everything is broken, are one of my main inspirations to practice. It's so clear, then, what my attachments and aversions have brought me to. How urgent it is for me to let go of them.
None of which makes the misery go away, of course. (Well, I guess on really rare occasions I've been able to step right out of it, but I'm sure I could could them on the fingers of one hand, & no need for thumbs.) But at least it turns it to account.
If I could hold you and not let go, I certainly would.
On retreat one time my lama was dreadfully sick with the flu. I met him staggering back from the outhouse, and asked him how he was. He grinned suddenly, and said, "sometimes impermanence is on our side."
Lots of love janice. Sounds like nature is at least understanding and echoing...a candle flame burning in the violent chaos is as much as we can hope for sometimes.
didn't sit today. seem to be taking sundays off. nice. a day without any prssures; an inhalation....
Bathed in a steam bath, soaking wet, these I can take, but being cold, no. I so empathize, Janice! Dante's hell is a static frozen place. I could agree with that interpretation of being cold. My landlord keeps the house at 15C when he's not here (most of the time), the legal limit is 21C (we've agreed I can put it to 18C when my daughter's particularly cold). To survive I bought a small ceramic heater, and that wasn't enough, so an electric throw (because I have these aids I won't let him turn up the heat when I'm alone in the house, silly to heat it for one woman in the basement). When I was finally consistently warm I understood how important it is to be warm- to think, to feel, to create, to laugh. So, yes, what a miserable night, cold and tired, ooh...
Times when things fragment usually precede newness, a resurgence of creativity, change...
I'm sure you're on the edge of whole new discoveries, new directions, ultimate blossomings.
About once a month I do a two and a half hour meditation, the same one I always do, only longer. I began at 5pm, it's so comforting to immerse myself in the meditation, letting it hold me. Because I didn't get home until 2am from dancing at an African drumming circle, and kept waking up, I was tired and did fall asleep during the meditation. When I woke I was still chanting the simple mantra, "sa ta na ma," my tongue against my upper palate, my thumb and forefingers touching; probably I chanted it all through the sleep too. But because I fell asleep I added another hour to it, finishing at 8:30pm. It took that long to plummet inside thought, memory, desire, loss, hope and find something perhaps approaching complete openess. I have come out of it feeling pervasive and deep love, and fully vulnerable to life.
10 Comments:
Sitting this morning was a blurry nightmare … all the snippets of last night’s conversations looping in my head … and memories – past memories, present memories and future memories
What do you do on a day like this, when everything broken is barely held together by duct tape? All I really needed yesterday was someone holding me and not letting go. And a good cry.
Really fierce windstorms have knocked out the power lines in many areas … rather nice living by candlelight, but very cold since the heating in our apartment block is electric … and NO COFFEE !!!
Tired, so tired … and cold.
Outside it’s warmer, so I walked and walked and walked … home again and the power is back on, and I’m making Hungarian Mushroom Soup with lots of paprika and sour cream … comfort food.
Janice, hugs. Hold yourself, I guess, and it sounds as though you are. But we're all holding you too.
I'm here and reading, and meditating, and will find a way to sit next Friday whatever time it is.
[[[Janice]]]. Virtual hugs speeding across the time zones to you. The storms sound quite something and while candlelight is nice, no coffee is not funny and nor is cold and fatigue. The soup is a really good idea. Comfort food but healthy comfort food so no guilt later ;-).
I sat this morning for 20 mins. Emotional. Life, meditation and blogging between them seem to bringing a lot of emotions to the surface. I'm actually really really glad because it feels like progress.
{{{Janice}}}
When the Buddha said that suffering is all-pervasive, he meant it. Sometimes we can see it. Seeing it is a gift, or it can be, if it we understand it as such.
People ordinarily tell you to cheer up and not to think about it, which I think is the worst advice you could possibly get. Our situation really is desperate. We set ourselves up for this misery over and over and over.
Moments like this, when everything is broken, are one of my main inspirations to practice. It's so clear, then, what my attachments and aversions have brought me to. How urgent it is for me to let go of them.
None of which makes the misery go away, of course. (Well, I guess on really rare occasions I've been able to step right out of it, but I'm sure I could could them on the fingers of one hand, & no need for thumbs.) But at least it turns it to account.
If I could hold you and not let go, I certainly would.
On retreat one time my lama was dreadfully sick with the flu. I met him staggering back from the outhouse, and asked him how he was. He grinned suddenly, and said, "sometimes impermanence is on our side."
Lots of love janice. Sounds like nature is at least understanding and echoing...a candle flame burning in the violent chaos is as much as we can hope for sometimes.
didn't sit today. seem to be taking sundays off. nice. a day without any prssures; an inhalation....
Bathed in a steam bath, soaking wet, these I can take, but being cold, no. I so empathize, Janice! Dante's hell is a static frozen place. I could agree with that interpretation of being cold. My landlord keeps the house at 15C when he's not here (most of the time), the legal limit is 21C (we've agreed I can put it to 18C when my daughter's particularly cold). To survive I bought a small ceramic heater, and that wasn't enough, so an electric throw (because I have these aids I won't let him turn up the heat when I'm alone in the house, silly to heat it for one woman in the basement). When I was finally consistently warm I understood how important it is to be warm- to think, to feel, to create, to laugh. So, yes, what a miserable night, cold and tired, ooh...
Times when things fragment usually precede newness, a resurgence of creativity, change...
I'm sure you're on the edge of whole new discoveries, new directions, ultimate blossomings.
Sending you love and blessings- xo
{{{janice}}} {{{and mary too}}}
The Zen calligraphy on my desk says "everything changes" - one of the truths I am most adept at forgetting!
And aren't we lucky to have Dale?
Janice, hugs & (virtual) holding to you. You asked what to do on a day like today...I guess sometimes all you *can* do is have the good cry you crave.
I hope the soup brought some solace...and amen to what Dale's lama said. Sometimes knowing that "this too shall pass" is a comforting thing.
PS: I sat a very sleepy 15 minutes after dinner, after being lazy most of the day.
About once a month I do a two and a half hour meditation, the same one I always do, only longer. I began at 5pm, it's so comforting to immerse myself in the meditation, letting it hold me. Because I didn't get home until 2am from dancing at an African drumming circle, and kept waking up, I was tired and did fall asleep during the meditation. When I woke I was still chanting the simple mantra, "sa ta na ma," my tongue against my upper palate, my thumb and forefingers touching; probably I chanted it all through the sleep too. But because I fell asleep I added another hour to it, finishing at 8:30pm. It took that long to plummet inside thought, memory, desire, loss, hope and find something perhaps approaching complete openess. I have come out of it feeling pervasive and deep love, and fully vulnerable to life.
Post a Comment
<< Home