Right off the bat, I can see that my parameters were way too strict (as usual). Meditation meant sitting in lotus position, closing my eyes, repeating the mantra. This doesn't always work on first attempt for me. Or even the second or third. I'm stupid stubborn. At the very least, juggling all of the variables was problematic. I could, for example, meditate indoors for 15 minutes, or outside for 5-10. (Outside is where lots of mosquitoes live and chew me to bits.)
I intended to give a rundown of all of the days as they occur and then just post the inflated entry on Friday morning but none of that happened.
Day 1 turned out well but I didn't make it to a whole 15. A sense of purpose fluttered in around 7 PM, and once we'd given Coco her meds for the day, I asked Juan to come get me off of the back stoop when the time had passed. On the second and third days I spent time "abiding in silence" or enjoying a walk down a quiet, empty street at twilight with Coco and Juan.
Monday brought me back to my routine. Two-hour morning drive. Long, quiet day in the office. I got home and felt oddly rejuvenated, pleased to sit alone all day and then return to family. Changed out of my work clothes and into sweats. Juan called me to video chat with Coco. And then, somewheres at ten minutes into the call, I saw the ticker on the bottom of the TV screen flash the news about Robin Williams.
I don't know why that knowledge hit me as though his was a personal loss, but I felt it as such. I sat in that space for a few days, to be honest, but in the moment I decided to go outside and center myself on something, anything.
My aunt's yard is a little sanctuary in the middle of suburban sprawl. Trucks and cars rush past just beyond the gate. At all hours. But inside of it, all of the plants are lush and green and overgrown. The pond's fountain trickles water up and about.
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| (my view... but surrounded by cats) |
The air that night was very cool and calm and listening to all of the sounds around me - cars and crickets and chirping frogs - brought me back down to earth from floating in and out of my own head. So I sat and crossed my legs, foot over foot, and put finger tips together. And said my words. The cats eventually came down to sit near me and stayed. Time slowed down.
I said my version of a prayer and offered up some thoughts to the great beyond before the end. It felt like a curtain was lifted, and then, the alarm.
That was my best attempt all week and it came on the heels of a confusing, emotional hour. I've found that this happens to me a lot. Surreptitiously, serendipitously, I slip into a calm. I long for these moments and I welcome them when they arrive. So I'm going to try to meditate more or at least try to more actively find a quiet space in the midst of everything whirring past. And that brings me to this week.
This week's project: Write 5 poems. Getting creative and personal and vulnerable. Fun!
