i haven’t been blogging much in the last few weeks. i picked up “conference crud” at COPE and then it morphed into a few colds or something similar. i’ve cocooned myself a bit as a result and focused on work, home, and self.
Sir wanted all of us to meditate, and that’s one thing i’ve focused on…along with getting sleep and starting physical therapy so i can get this arthritis in check. Yes, arthritis. That’s not sexy, damnit, and i keep thinking “i’m too young for arthritis” but here it is.
The meditation is the thing that has been the most surprising.
When i tried it before, i did it by the book and i fell asleep (narcolepsy, fun stuff) but this time i did it my way and i’ve managed to stay awake (for the most part). I set up a spot for myself facing North – chosen based on a feeling and then bd described the significance of North. When i told her that any other direction’s description might seem like it could apply to me now (rather like a fortune cookie or a horoscope in the newspaper), she said, “You usually know” and when i read the other descriptions for South and East and West… i thought, “she’s probably right… North is significant to me now.”
Still, there was this nagging doubt – because that is what i do… i doubt things that cannot be proven. It’s essential to my work and to my scientific self. Yet, i started seeing confirmations. Like when i stared at the home-fashioned-altar on day two or was it day three? and realized that the paint color i chose (graphite chalk paint) turns the most gorgeous bluish-black (like the night sky) when hand buffed and then i went shopping for a candle and turned to show my favorite one to A and saw the name on the bottom… midsummer night.
And so i accepted.. no two-by-four needed up-side-this-head… smile… just confirmation.
Here’s the interesting part, though…
It started out great… meditation did… day one and two… i felt calmer and thought… this is cool. Then? The longer i did it, the more i was troubled by things. Not so much while i was meditating… but at other times. And then, the other night, i had what can only be described as a wonky experience. It would seem that this process… of centering myself… of awareness… might have side effects. i saw or felt or knew something … something not perceptible to the eye. It wasn’t a hallucination – was nothing like the narcolepsy issues. Different altogether. Along with that experience comes a host of smaller, less-significant moments… where it seems that my emotions are too close to the surface… or closer than they were.
i can’t say that i like it. i feel like i should say that i enjoy it… that it seems almost ungrateful to have new insight and to wish you didn’t, but i feel like i’m barely managing the emotions and feelings i already have and i’m not sure that i want to feel more.
The nice thing about shoving all that shit down and squashing it is that you don’t have to face it, but it sure is heavy and it’s there and it does color the way you view the world and your place in it.
Still, it is what i know. i don’t like crying. i don’t like not knowing. i fear opening a door or a floodgate… i worry that i may not be able to find my way back to where i was… and then… i fear that i may not want to find my way back… and i fear what that new path might bring.
If an unexamined life isn’t worth living, if i’m driven to understand the physical world and the emotional and social one… shouldn’t i also value the spiritual world and be willing to learn about it? i’m struggling with this.
For now, i’m trying to make sense of this in the context of any other massive overhaul. A renovation, if you will. It has to get much messier before it gets better. Stuff gets exposed to the light of day. Shit gets broken, some gets salvaged, some must be discarded, some given away. New stuff comes in, things that work… Flow might be changed, rooms and passages rearranged, so the house functions better. Messy, loud, destructive, but also constructive… all necessary to get the house you want… or the life you want.
Work in progress.
And perhaps a rather nonsensical post.
So be it.
Things Have Changed by Bob Dylan
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