Reveling in this morning's good mood, I sit. And notice joy from open heart, clear mind, and relaxed body. Breath coming, and going, free and soft. Like a feather, caressing my insides. Gentle tickle. Feeling like Rumi's Guest House. Nothing can disturb the calmness. Neither the sounds from breakfast being served in the kitchen, nor the throbbing in my teeth, still, nor the subtle internal changes from moment to moment, nor the passing thoughts. Feeling happy with myself. I could sit like this forever.
Not so soon, mind says. What is boredom that just came in, with thoughts of ending soon? Struggle ensues. Calmness a distant memory, already. Image of welcoming, all loving self, shattered. Thought, I need to regain control, and mediate internal fight. Make room even for unwanted guest. Breath to the rescue. Mind calming down. Heart opening, slowly. Awareness, adjusting focus to better see, and recognize newcomer. Sadness, depressed, lonely . . . Bell rings.
Remembering Gil's words to me, when I asked about pride. "Don't worry, mindfulness has a way of taking care of such thing" It certainly did this morning . . . :)
Very inspiring, thank you!ReplyDelete
Thank you Kyle. Thanks also for pointing me to new Buddhist Bloggers page on Facebook. I just joined.ReplyDelete
Thanks for great poem - Rumi's Guest House.ReplyDelete
Thank you Tempo! Love your tweets, and how you mix algorithms with Buddhist thoughts . . .ReplyDelete
Everything is Dhamma, if Dhamma has its specific form, Dhamma can't be Dhamma.
Everything is our guests. :P
Well said! Practice is part of life, all of it - life is part of practice.ReplyDelete