I sat for about 10 minutes before bedtime last night, and I just now sat 10 minutes before breakfast. I'm hoping to establish a habit of "short sittings" rather than waiting to find longer, uninterrupted chunks of time. Every little bit helps!
Stray, I'm sending extra love and "virtual hugs" your way as you continue to deal with your loss.
I feel a little pathetic sharing this, but hopefully it will make you giggle. I'm not on great form today, and feeling a little overwhelmed by the world in general, I decided to do what I sometimes do under extreme circumstances, and picked up my duvet and retreated to my wardrobe for a while. Sitting on my shoes, it's quite nice in there really. Though there was a bit of a funny smell.
I guess I meditated for a while ... I'm not really trying to direct my meditation at the moment, just making space for feelings and thoughts really, and remembering to breathe.
Eventually my dog demanded to be let in, but wouldn't settle, keeping digging at the corner, and so I gave up trying to calm her and exited into the bright light. Whereupon she produced the dead mouse that I had been sitting on and had squashed paper thin.
So, the moral of this story is that if you're going to meditate in your wardrobe, check under your shoes for dead rodents first.
On a less frivolous tack ... I'm sorting through my pictures from my trip to scotland. And thinking about the inevitability of ups and downs, and how much more beautiful the mountains are than milton keynes. (For non-uk residents, Milton Keynes is a horrible new town built for convenience, but not very interesting).
I think part of my struggle at the moment is that I find it hard to allow myself to be angry. Nigh on impossible. I want to be cool, calm, reasonable. But I'm looking at photos of raging torrents of water charging furiously down the mountains, and of the beautiful still pools that they were filling at the bottom. Rage as process I guess, with all sorts of possibilities as the product, including peace and tranquility.
Stray, my heart with you. Death is hard; loss is hard; grieving is full of anger & inconsolableness; eventually it passes, but in the depths of our grief we know the power of our love for the other, for our friend, lover, parent, mentor. If we didn't love so deeply we would crash so deeply. Would you withold anything because it's so painful now? I can't imagine that. Sometimes I think what life really asks of us is to put our entire selves on the line every time, to hold nothing back, give it all. Time will heal the pain, Stray, but the love will never die.
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Good morning, everyone!
I sat for about 10 minutes before bedtime last night, and I just now sat 10 minutes before breakfast. I'm hoping to establish a habit of "short sittings" rather than waiting to find longer, uninterrupted chunks of time. Every little bit helps!
Stray, I'm sending extra love and "virtual hugs" your way as you continue to deal with your loss.
Thanks beth, and Lori, it's hugely appreciated :)
I feel a little pathetic sharing this, but hopefully it will make you giggle. I'm not on great form today, and feeling a little overwhelmed by the world in general, I decided to do what I sometimes do under extreme circumstances, and picked up my duvet and retreated to my wardrobe for a while. Sitting on my shoes, it's quite nice in there really. Though there was a bit of a funny smell.
I guess I meditated for a while ... I'm not really trying to direct my meditation at the moment, just making space for feelings and thoughts really, and remembering to breathe.
Eventually my dog demanded to be let in, but wouldn't settle, keeping digging at the corner, and so I gave up trying to calm her and exited into the bright light. Whereupon she produced the dead mouse that I had been sitting on and had squashed paper thin.
So, the moral of this story is that if you're going to meditate in your wardrobe, check under your shoes for dead rodents first.
On a less frivolous tack ... I'm sorting through my pictures from my trip to scotland. And thinking about the inevitability of ups and downs, and how much more beautiful the mountains are than milton keynes. (For non-uk residents, Milton Keynes is a horrible new town built for convenience, but not very interesting).
I think part of my struggle at the moment is that I find it hard to allow myself to be angry. Nigh on impossible. I want to be cool, calm, reasonable. But I'm looking at photos of raging torrents of water charging furiously down the mountains, and of the beautiful still pools that they were filling at the bottom. Rage as process I guess, with all sorts of possibilities as the product, including peace and tranquility.
xx
Stray, my heart with you. Death is hard; loss is hard; grieving is full of anger & inconsolableness; eventually it passes, but in the depths of our grief we know the power of our love for the other, for our friend, lover, parent, mentor. If we didn't love so deeply we would crash so deeply. Would you withold anything because it's so painful now? I can't imagine that. Sometimes I think what life really asks of us is to put our entire selves on the line every time, to hold nothing back, give it all. Time will heal the pain, Stray, but the love will never die.
If we didn't love so deeply we wouldn't crash so deeply...
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