Unpacking the Boredom

Sitting with myself, not quite knowing what to expect, as usual. I am starting in a good place, lots of love, and tranquillity. Yesterday's poems still very much present. Not the words, but the general movement from the heart, opening. Breath moving in and out, at ease. The vast expanse feels almost too big. Fear comes in, of getting lost in unfamiliar land. Thoughts pass and do not insist, leaving room for feelings. Fear, now joined by boredom. Boredom soon taking over, and threatening my concentration. To not get swept by it, instead noticing my dislike of the boredom. Breathing into it, exploring its boundaries. Thought of Gil's words during my interview with him, 'to unpack the boredom' . . . Tenderness, I need to be tender, and not tense up. Boredom becomes frustration. Big time. Another difficult guest in my house. Breathing, loving, at least trying to be. The anger's got a sad flavor to it, very subtle. Wishing it would go away. Realizing I am to follow Thich Nhat Hanh's practice. Breathing, loving, at least trying to be. It's hard. I get really tempted to open my eyes, and check, how much more time? Maybe the timer's not working this morning? No, to stay strong, and open for the moment. Anger still there, knot in my throat signaling definite sadness. Bell ring.