Posts Tagged 'meditation'

don’t judge me

When you’re meditating, you’re not supposed to stop thinking (which is impossible), you’re just supposed to return your focus from your thoughts to the rhythm of your breath. This teaches not only that YOU are the one in control of where your attention goes (not whatever shiny thing happens to grab it at the moment) but it also teaches you to take a break from judgment. We’re always judging the quality of things. This is good, this is bad. I like this, I hate that and this isn’t terrible but I’d rather be watching Justin Bieber. Value judgments every moment of the day.

When you’re meditating and suddenly realize you’re focused on a thought instead of your breathing, it doesn’t matter whether that thought is disturbing, exciting, ugly, or the most brilliant idea you’ve ever had, you let it go. All thoughts become the same. No judgment. It’s not good or bad, it’s just not what we’re focusing on right now.

Practicing this break from the habit of judging pays off in day to day life. I’m starting to see more and more that so many things aren’t good or bad like I’d thought, they’re just there. With nothing to do with me. Suddenly the people and things that I feel myself threatened by or desperately drawn to are becoming fewer. As long as I keep meditating daily, that is.

To help with letting thoughts go in meditation, I’ve tried picturing them as clouds (whether dark or fluffy, they all move on and disappear), as balloons (and I gently cut their string and let them fly away), or as birds. Susan says to observe the birds as they fly by and return my attention to breathing. But I’m not sure if I’m a circus freak or something because my thoughts are freaking LOUD. I have shouty thoughts. I’m starting to picture the birds carrying little stereos tuned to different stations. Which is neither good nor bad, it’s just there.

and you are reminded that your heart is absolutely indestructible

Susan Piver is at it again with great heartbreak advice like “stepping off the self-improvement treadmill” and instead “developing methods of extreme self-care.”

Making self-care sound like a sport that requires wearing protective gear made out of neoprene and PVC makes it even more engaging for me. But what is extreme self-care? One example is “allowing your feelings to be just as they are without attaching a narrative to them.” Feeling brokenhearted? Open to yourself and listen to those feelings without necessarily rising to action to DO anything about them or explain them away. Feeling fragile? Susan says to “accept yourself on the spot.” Do it over and over as you navigate the unpredictable waves of emotions that come even for months after a broken heart. According to Susan, opening to yourself and accepting yourself and your feelings is a “gesture of gentleness” that can lead to great wisdom. Give it a try. It’s totally true.

I woke up feeling fragile this morning. Why? I’m sick to death of working out my worries and feelings about Hot Lunch ALL NIGHT EVERY NIGHT FOR MOST OF THE LAST DAMN YEAR. I feel like I’m doing awesome with the healing thing during the day, but I have no control over what my mind does when I’m asleep. Boo.

I guess this heartbreak is another thing that isn’t done with me yet. So I’d better quit tuning it out and listen some more. And suddenly I find myself grateful for the open door heartbreak represents. A broken heart is an invitation to touch the real, deep things in life and in yourself and to stop living on the surface of things.

This morning, I’m diving in with this meditation. Care to join me?

got me some bloggin to do

it feels like a lot of life happened recently. for a while there, life took a break and i was just doing a lot of thinking about life. then a whole buttload of life just up and happened. so here’s some updates.

first. the aforementioned Wisdom of a Broken Heart has seriously changed my entire life and how i relate to it. i have greedily bought up all the books by Susan Piver and gone through them with my save-the-tatas pink sharpie, highlighting all the pearls of insanely good wisdom in there. i have started a daily meditation and freewriting practice that is seriously teaching me things. ten minutes of sitting, staring and breathing. much like what i do the rest of the day, only PRODUCTIVE.

second. Hot Lunch and I are again partners in crime, only in a wonderfully comfortable and satisfying friendship with way less awkwardness than you’d expect between two people who have seen each other’s orgasm faces.

we started hanging out again over the weekend and i was taken aback by the sensation i had forgotten from our beginnings last summer. spending time with Hot Lunch is like suddenly finding myself immersed in something more breathable than air. like i thought i was breathing before, but a few exchanges, a few laughs, some shared ideas and suddenly the air we’re breathing is simultaneously easier and more beautiful. and the sexual tension isn’t half bad either.

third. i don’t know if you people have noticed, but SUMMER IS HERE, BITCHES!! and i have discovered this year’s preferred mode of fitness. two years ago it was walking/jogging, last year it was biking. BEHOLD, dear Reader, THE YEAR OF THE POOL. yes. i have discovered the pool in my apartment complex and i’ve been in it THREE DAYS IN A ROW. the first two days i mostly sunbathed and occasionally walked around in the shallow end on tiptoe wearing a grimace of pain (do they pipe this water in from SIBERIA?)

but today, i decided to try some fitness! what is a normal workout in pool terms? i decided to aim for 10 laps or 30 minutes. i made 8 laps in 25 and strolled sexily back to my deck chair. where i became increasingly (but sexily) exhausted until i finally decided to head home, which is when i made the unsexy discovery that some freaky fitness alchemy had fused my limbs into PURE LEAD. i forget, isn’t there something about exercise underwater being twice as effective? I CAN’T MOVE MY BODY, PEOPLE. i may die of pool. and just as THE YEAR OF THE POOL was beginning so auspiciously.

i am now crashed in Ugly Chair with a giant glass of water, several ibuprophen and an ice cream cone. Drumsticks have electrolytes or something, right?