Sitting this morning, I watched as various ideas of self came and went. The dutiful wife, the good meditator, the competent therapist, the concerned mother, the smart presenter, the unsure woman, the insightful blogger, . . . all taking turn to interrupt sweet flow of breath, and simple hearing of bird sounds.
Then, fear. Into the heart, down the arms, in the guts, down the legs, in the throat. I remembered Mingyur Rinpoche's talk on panic:
Relaxing the body, and being friend with fear. Fear receding.
Then, irritation . . . and awareness of the irritation about the irritation. Irritation relaxing a bit, making room for an edge of sadness. Mind's urge to want to know, explain away, interpret. Frustration of no answer.
Sitting with discomfort of stinging heaviness, and not knowing.
Sitting . . .
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i love your description of this process, and how you Just Stayed With It. Thankyou for reminding me that this is possible!!
ReplyDeleteyes, not neat, not pleasant, not finished. just is.
ReplyDeleteI recognise the "irritation about hte irritation". thanks for working it hrough and sharing it.
ReplyDeleteYes. Are you familiar with Mingyur Rinpoche and U Tejaniya's teachings?
ReplyDeleteMingyur Rinpoche calls it a case of booster of emotion. U Tejaniya addresses it in his 23 points about meditation and his overall emphasis on paying attention to the attitude we bring to meditation. I call it playing favorites . . .
I find Rumi's poem, The Guesthouse, a very useful image to hang on to sometimes.