There's something about a 0 that is compelling me to log on (it just doesn't seem right to have NO ONE commenting) to say I'm plugging away, inconsistently, with my commitment. "In a state of constant repair" might be the best way to put it.
Ruth, I tried to leave this comment a few days ago, but blogger's comments weren't working:
Ruth, sorry I didn't respond earlier. "I spent a beautiful night in prayer with my mother before she went"... how amazing Yves is. Thank you for sharing this.
While it's not the custom here, when my friend's father died in a farmhouse in Britain many years ago she told me that her mother filled a thermos with tea and spent the night with him. Simone de Beauvoir lay in bed in the hospital with Satre after he had died. And the Irish "wake" is quite an amazing & probably healthy custom.
There are many ways to say our goodbyes, or perhaps they are new ways of connecting once the loved one is gone...
Yves could only have helped his mother on that last night of her life, and himself, and how beautiful.
Oh, Jean, of course you were missed! I thought about your sojourn into the countryside and your quest for a new lifestyle all week. Just like we miss Dale now, who's been flitting about Montreal I hear :)
Sometimes I feel like, oh, odd because I don't have any 'repair commitment'...
I don't even have a commitment to meditate; it's more like, oh, there's a break now, and I can meditate, or like it is when I write a poem or do a drawing or painting, I'm ready and open to that flow of energy, and then I'm pulled into it. It becomes a pressing need to create. A kind of pregnancy that needs birth. Does that make any sense?
Mostly every day the need to meditate overtakes me... it's not like a nap at all... rather a calling from deep within.
I don't resist or hold back. It's Summer, and sometimes on a bus or subway even standing, or I have to stop & sit on a park bench, or even sitting in a downtown investment office, where I am now, with my eyes open for as long as necessary.
Prayerful, worshipful, sacred, the stillness, the holy core, where the love is, these words come to mind to describe it.
But I don't 'get anything' out of meditating. It's simply something to do, and to listen to its call...
4 Comments:
There's something about a 0 that is compelling me to log on (it just doesn't seem right to have NO ONE commenting) to say I'm plugging away, inconsistently, with my commitment. "In a state of constant repair" might be the best way to put it.
"In a state of constant repair" is a good way of putting it for all of us, I suspect.
Finding the exercises from my meditation class extremely helpful and hope to share some of them.
Janice, your saying you'd missed me meant a lot to me. How strange and sweet that a stranger on the other side of the world...
Ruth, I tried to leave this comment a few days ago, but blogger's comments weren't working:
Ruth, sorry I didn't respond earlier. "I spent a beautiful night in prayer with my mother before she went"... how amazing Yves is. Thank you for sharing this.
While it's not the custom here, when my friend's father died in a farmhouse in Britain many years ago she told me that her mother filled a thermos with tea and spent the night with him. Simone de Beauvoir lay in bed in the hospital with Satre after he had died. And the Irish "wake" is quite an amazing & probably healthy custom.
There are many ways to say our goodbyes, or perhaps they are new ways of connecting once the loved one is gone...
Yves could only have helped his mother on that last night of her life, and himself, and how beautiful.
Oh, Jean, of course you were missed! I thought about your sojourn into the countryside and your quest for a new lifestyle all week. Just like we miss Dale now, who's been flitting about Montreal I hear :)
Sometimes I feel like, oh, odd because I don't have any 'repair commitment'...
I don't even have a commitment to meditate; it's more like, oh, there's a break now, and I can meditate, or like it is when I write a poem or do a drawing or painting, I'm ready and open to that flow of energy, and then I'm pulled into it. It becomes a pressing need to create. A kind of pregnancy that needs birth. Does that make any sense?
Mostly every day the need to meditate overtakes me... it's not like a nap at all... rather a calling from deep within.
I don't resist or hold back. It's Summer, and sometimes on a bus or subway even standing, or I have to stop & sit on a park bench, or even sitting in a downtown investment office, where I am now, with my eyes open for as long as necessary.
Prayerful, worshipful, sacred, the stillness, the holy core, where the love is, these words come to mind to describe it.
But I don't 'get anything' out of meditating. It's simply something to do, and to listen to its call...
Am I really, really odd?
Post a Comment
<< Home