There’s sitting, and there’s sitting. This
morning was definitely the latter.
4 a.m., roused by a dream, agitated,
looking for something, I find myself at the altar. The scrape and sizzle of a
match lit in the dead quiet of night, evocative and romantic, connects me to my
days on the open road, in love, in temples, with my best friend Saskia as a teen, and
back again to 4 a.m., a little less agitated now, but still looking for
something, hoping the sky stays dark for longer than it will.
Pick up
Writing on Water by Mooji:
If you keep following
the
mind’s play, you will miss
the stillness
inside your own heart
Okay. Let’s go…
Stomach cramps. All night, I’ve been having
painful stomach cramps. “Dehydration”, meditation tells me. These little gems,
which meditation is so good for, I love. Better get some water then…
Okay. What was the Mooji thing? Better check…
If you keep following
the mind’s play, you will miss
the stillness
inside your own heart
Yes. Perfect. Stillness in my own heart. And…
Pffwahh. Look at all this desire in my
body. Too hot in there. Maybe candle gazing… mm, so lovely.
Gym this morning is going to be a bitch. Ugh, even the drive will be a bitch. Yeah, but I’ll motivate when I get there, and the beach drive...
Damn.
Is he snoring? I can never go back to bed.
Shh.
Mind’s play. Stillness in my heart.
Is that a bird?
And so on. For 30 minutes.
Looking for something is no way to approach
meditation.
I’m going back to bed...
Ohm.
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