about-face

epiphany  [ih-pif-uh-nee]

a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.

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as they say, THIS just happened. (well, sunday, to be exact).

a few short days ago i chimed in about my battle with stillness/mindfulness, and the like.  couldn't have predicted this turn but the text somebody very special let me borrow... yeah, the author brought the thunder!

for the first time ever, meditation was qualified as something other than a thing you achieve and/or do, but the ACT itself of being.  to be clear, you do not need to secure a tropical oasis in your mind (or whatever your peaceful equivalent may be), it's the pause and focus itself that constitutes meditation.  what i've done, as have many others, is transpose meditation with relaxation.  the latter is something i've legitimately struggled with for... well, a long time.

everybody i've known to guide me in the direction of this mindfulness has explained it as getting centered and clearing your mind.  whereas that may be the result, it's not necessary or even advisable to control the process.  you see, what i've begun to learn is that it's OK to accept EXACTLY where you are whenever you're reflecting on simply being.  that's the point, identifying with the moment and allowing for anything and everything that may be present, however desirable or irritating the emotion/stimulus may be.

more often than not, since i've come to the infancy period of understanding this meditation piece, i've had to accept an unquiet mind.  while i'd like to eventually experience its antithesis, expending energy or working to manipulate that process in any way is counterproductive.  it's not all about harmony, at least not to the extent most would quickly imagine when given that descriptor.  it IS about being in harmony with your present self, just that it won't always be absent distractions or stress.  in other words, don't go into this expecting a choir of angels or some other form of utopian grounds.

i am WORLDS away from internalizing and adopting this form of self actualization, but it does feel affirming to have a small window of hope and see things a little more clearly.  the breathing aspect of this is definitely going to take some time to adjust to, although i can already feel a thread of confidence and clarity birthed from these rudimentary efforts.

bottom line, i stand corrected.  i was wrong, and everyone is actually capable of meditation.  not everyone will be taken to that stereotypical dreamland that's so often advertised, wrongly i might add.  but you know what, that's OK!  as with most things in my personal life, i'll take baby steps and work through this new relationship with myself, as i suspect it may actually teach me a thing or two.  not unlike anything else, it will take time... and hopefully i'll have enough to truly feel that which several others have described.  keep in mind this is also what used to be frustrating to no end because it appeared to be an exercise in futility.

i've pushed through almost 15 chapters in this book, in most cases having to revisit each multiple times... and it's becoming a breath of fresh air.  i'll inevitably purchase my own copy as this one needs to be returned soon.  this isn't a one-time front to back piece.  in fact, thus far i seem to get the most out of it when carefully studied, small bites at a time.

i'm quite grateful for this gift and the person responsible for facilitating it.  regardless of how long this feeling lasts or to what extent it's felt, notwithstanding my occasional habit of self degradation... i will celebrate this light and move forward.

 

unquiet

last week somebody told me i should read more.  as recent ago as last night, another person told me i should write again.  to some extent, i'm curious what the next self-improvement prescription might be.  in these peoples' defense, their heart was in the right place and i'm grateful for them.  only, i still wonder if they have an idea of why these things are no longer prevalent in my life.

this book that was generously lent to me, of which i've valiantly attempted to read... it's managed thus far to shed more light on how woefully inadequate my abilities are to achieve that which may be its most important lesson: patience (mindfulness)

having only made it to chapter seven a painful three hours later, i'm convinced the subject of this text (ultimately people who carry on day to day with peace and fulness of the moment) are as alien to me as even before i began this effort.  it's as though they have a magic switch and find quiet on demand.  that much could not be further from the truth in my life.  for as far back as i can recall, i've struggled with the voice(s) in my head.  these aren't ghosts or even spirits, for in almost every case they are the sound of my own speech.  even as i write this, i'm working to arrest the contemplation taking place in my head about how best to carry out a task slated for two hours from now.  and what's more, that thought is sparring for position with another involving next week!

this concept of meditation is one i know many of my friends/family have approached, some with care and others with what appears to be reckless abandon.  i, too, have made previous journeys to places that promote stillness and calm, only in most cases it resulted in additional anxiety.  interestingly enough, that doesn't seem to be the case in the few times i recall being in the company of another.  that's not to say i achieved what it was i set out to do, but rather i could live vicariously through somebody else who could, and at least for the time being that felt good.

to metaphorically paint the scene of a "quiet mind" is actually a task i haven't been able to complete, although there have been many futile attempts.  in social situations, this looks like giving these voices power by expelling them out of my mouth, sometimes at a rapid and potentially hazardous pace.  to not do this, at times, would mean having to wrestle with all of them in what usually becomes akin to slow torture.  in some ways, for example, this very paragraph has already been written seven different times before the words manage to escape, and the term i've chosen here is no coincidence - each word and phrase prepares itself no different than a prisoner being held captive, with one goal in mind - getting the fuck out of dodge.

i don't hold others in contempt for being able to lead a less psychologically noisy existence, just that i don't necessarily appreciate feeling pushed to do the same.  maybe that would be different if i felt hope that i might achieve this one day, but alas it's waning at a rapid pace on most days.  journaling used to be an outlet but i became sick of facing the thoughts and feelings, and especially the light they would cast on problems (or at least challenges).  happy looks much different depending on the person and how they wear it.  the tendency for me is to appear relaxed, and from what i've gathered through others' observations, borderline uninterested.  that's the thing, usually there's no lack of interest at all, it's just my equivalent of quiet.

i face each day as they come, with every effort to bring into it some element of joy.  the difference is that i've learned, through adversity mostly, how to do this with a storm of emotion flowing through me.  the majority of this is invisible to the naked eye, as thoughts dance vigorously through my head.   every moment was never intended to be dressed in happiness or its colorful nemesis despair.  we're creatures shaped by our life experiences and in most cases it's wise to pay close attention to the lessons there for the taking, whether they might come on a good, bad, or indifferent day... they're always present.

so, next time i might be waxing poetic on some topic, to the tune of anything that may produce intolerance, lack of patience, or disinterest... please identify with this battle of the mind and respect that i'm not always on the victorious end.  exercise your capacity for patience toward my lack of the same.