Tuesday, September 15, 2009

morning.

What a cruel thing for a Monday morning: rain. After the alarm went off at 5 am I had to gently address the self for five minutes; remember, that ½ hour extra feels like 5 seconds and is never worth it; remember, you have to make yourself sit now; remember, books don’t write themselves and most of the magic that goes into a novel is used just by waking yourself up to write the damn thing.
And so I got to the zafu five minutes late. I took a ten minute break from writing to eat and listen to NPR. But I got it done! Monday wake up is over! Now for the shower. School opens in 15 minutes and we’ve got 3 days of review before the test on Thursday. Professional Development Friday.

Tuesday Morning

Didn't sit this morning. Ate breakfast instead. I think I need to wake up just a little bit earlier. Which may sound crazy, since I'll be reaching into the 4am hour. I think this has less to do with breakfast, though. I've noticed my sitting practice starting to deteriorate. And I've noticed more worry, more stress, and more character defects starting to emerge.

It's always tough to make judgment calls about practice. Actually, I've always been told not to. But with my patience waining, my mind seeks to blame something. Wants to say, "You cursed today. You were picky with your girlfriend. You couldn't let go. And you haven't been sitting."

This was the danger of leaving the temple. I didn't just leave; I stopped going all together. I don't have a good reason beyond a felt sense that things weren't right there. So since then, I sit on my own, and I went to a Unitarian Universalist Church, searching for a sangha atmosphere, really. But nothing feels right. Since nothing feels right, should I just accept what's there? Go back to the temple?

I have been enjoying my mornings. Usually, I wake up a little early- like 4:45 (my alarm is set for 5) and I start sitting right away, which gives me about 15 minutes before writing at 5:30. That 15 minutes is the best part! I make coffee, eat, and listen to NPR. That 15 minutes is my favorite part of the day. Then I write for a half hour, take a coffee break on the porch, which is my second favorite part. My neighborhood is usually loud with DJs, football, and regular urban sounds. When I take my coffee break, all you can hear are church bells and birds. After that, I write for another half hour, and then head over to work.

A really nice life, despite what the radio says. I'm not sure why I listen to NPR. I hear too much about money and too little about Bhutan, which has happy forests of trees...

1 comment:

  1. Been thinking about your hesitation to go back to the temple.
    I've experianced this myself. I hear that the right teacher comes along when your ready for them. I seem to meet them everyware.

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