Friday morning, Nov. 6, 2009
I'm trying something new this morning. Sitting by my window overlooking the screened porch and Pond as I usually do, but using my laptop to write. Theoretically, journaling is more personal, more inside stuff, if handwritten with a pen. We'll see. I think part of that comes from not being able to type. I spent the first ten years of my working life typing, taking shorthand, etc. - things that become automatic after a while - sort of like riding a bicycle. So this is a test. when I'm through I'll let you know what I think happened. (Actually I let you know in the title - which I selected after the write.)
The detox weekend is on! Stacey arrived last evening abou 9:30 - we took a few minutes to discuss the horrific shooting by the psychiatrist military man at Fort Hood where a dozen died and some 30 more (I'm not good at numbers) were shot. Stacey lived at Fort Hood many years ago. I finished off the wine, cookies, and candy left over before she came so now I'm ready to detox! That sounds awful, but really there was only one glass of wine, 5 Nutter Butter cookies and 3 pieces of Hershey's nuggets with almonds left.
Mist on the Pond again - rolling east to west. Water surface has a few ripples in it, seemingly moving in the opposite direction. My new wind chimes I purchased (my very first ones!) in Atlanta when I had lunch recently with Cat, my Clemson yoga teacher about ten years ago, - the chimes are still. The tree leaves are even browner - by now the pines with their bright green needles are the only brightness in the forest.
New solar lights for the Yogatorium pathway work beautifully! May need a few more, but the four I set out work very well. Susu brought Lynn with her at 6:00 for yoga. No one showed for the 7:30 session.
If you're still with me, you have just read a very good example of why meditation is so difficult for me. My mind wanders and jumps around from one topic to another when I'm typing, but much more rapidly when I'm "sitting." I almost said attempting to meditate. But, there ae those who define meditation as sitting and that is the stage at which I still find myself - just sitting. The problem, I know, is that I don't sit long enough. I recall very well that 20 minutes is a minimum time period, at least for me, to obtain even a tiny bit of what seems like peace. So, I still play at meditating by sitting but not nearly regularly enough or long enough at a sitting. I'm not quite sure why I find it difficult even now - I believe it has something to do with fear - but of what? Is it possible I don't really WANT to know who I am? Am I afraid I won't like me? Am I afraid the REAL me will be somebody I don't know and don't like? Or, is it a fear of losing control. But why? Who will then be in control? Is it a matter of shedding all the veils I have spent 76 years covering myself with? Oops - with which I've covered myself. See what I mean? The analytical mind is a vicious master. At least a relentless one.
How can I grow into my true Self if I don't learn to listen? AHA! An aha moment. I cannot. Learning to listen has been in the back of my mind for more than a year now as a necessity, but only just now have I actually confessed that I am not doing it. I keep talking about sitting twice a day for at least 20 minutes, but I haven't done it more than a very few times - maybe three or four.
Enough for now. Time for another mug of organic green tea.
Are you still reading? Now you have seen a good example of the kinds of insights that come from journaling if you persist - As Julia Cameron writes in "The Artist's Way", three pages each morning - a minimum.
Just wait till you see the NEXT POST about my meditating!
I'm trying something new this morning. Sitting by my window overlooking the screened porch and Pond as I usually do, but using my laptop to write. Theoretically, journaling is more personal, more inside stuff, if handwritten with a pen. We'll see. I think part of that comes from not being able to type. I spent the first ten years of my working life typing, taking shorthand, etc. - things that become automatic after a while - sort of like riding a bicycle. So this is a test. when I'm through I'll let you know what I think happened. (Actually I let you know in the title - which I selected after the write.)
The detox weekend is on! Stacey arrived last evening abou 9:30 - we took a few minutes to discuss the horrific shooting by the psychiatrist military man at Fort Hood where a dozen died and some 30 more (I'm not good at numbers) were shot. Stacey lived at Fort Hood many years ago. I finished off the wine, cookies, and candy left over before she came so now I'm ready to detox! That sounds awful, but really there was only one glass of wine, 5 Nutter Butter cookies and 3 pieces of Hershey's nuggets with almonds left.
Mist on the Pond again - rolling east to west. Water surface has a few ripples in it, seemingly moving in the opposite direction. My new wind chimes I purchased (my very first ones!) in Atlanta when I had lunch recently with Cat, my Clemson yoga teacher about ten years ago, - the chimes are still. The tree leaves are even browner - by now the pines with their bright green needles are the only brightness in the forest.
New solar lights for the Yogatorium pathway work beautifully! May need a few more, but the four I set out work very well. Susu brought Lynn with her at 6:00 for yoga. No one showed for the 7:30 session.
If you're still with me, you have just read a very good example of why meditation is so difficult for me. My mind wanders and jumps around from one topic to another when I'm typing, but much more rapidly when I'm "sitting." I almost said attempting to meditate. But, there ae those who define meditation as sitting and that is the stage at which I still find myself - just sitting. The problem, I know, is that I don't sit long enough. I recall very well that 20 minutes is a minimum time period, at least for me, to obtain even a tiny bit of what seems like peace. So, I still play at meditating by sitting but not nearly regularly enough or long enough at a sitting. I'm not quite sure why I find it difficult even now - I believe it has something to do with fear - but of what? Is it possible I don't really WANT to know who I am? Am I afraid I won't like me? Am I afraid the REAL me will be somebody I don't know and don't like? Or, is it a fear of losing control. But why? Who will then be in control? Is it a matter of shedding all the veils I have spent 76 years covering myself with? Oops - with which I've covered myself. See what I mean? The analytical mind is a vicious master. At least a relentless one.
How can I grow into my true Self if I don't learn to listen? AHA! An aha moment. I cannot. Learning to listen has been in the back of my mind for more than a year now as a necessity, but only just now have I actually confessed that I am not doing it. I keep talking about sitting twice a day for at least 20 minutes, but I haven't done it more than a very few times - maybe three or four.
Enough for now. Time for another mug of organic green tea.
Are you still reading? Now you have seen a good example of the kinds of insights that come from journaling if you persist - As Julia Cameron writes in "The Artist's Way", three pages each morning - a minimum.
Just wait till you see the NEXT POST about my meditating!
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