Nothing like being away from one's comfortable home, to get in touch with the extent of one's cravings, and what that does to one's sanity. Sitting in my impersonal room at the hotel, I close my eyes, with the signal of the bell. Sweet ring soon transforms into shrilling sound of repair man drilling away. I was told by my host, guests usually do not hang out here during the day - meaning this is the time when we take care of business, so don't expect too much . . . Enough for trusting Trip Advisor's recommendation!
Hungry, lousy breakfast from hotel. Craving good, healthy food I am used to. Tired, this travel's making me weary, thoughts of when I return home, back to routine I have perfected. Sore bum from sitting on uncomfortable wooden chair, flashing image of cozy red egg chair in our living room. Not happy. Want to be happy. Craving feeling of well-being. Ah-ah moment. I am becoming a happiness addict, chasing after times of bliss during and outside of meditation. Ideas of what mindfulness practice should be. Conflict with reality. Not liking the uncomfortable moments, of which there are many, let's face it. Subtle, pernicious expectation that if I do it right, I will capture more tranquillity, more good times. And of course, ensuing judgement that takes me even further away from the possibility of happiness