Meditation

I sat quietly, palms resting on my lap. Cool wind blowing in the window. Uncomfortable. Cold. Unevenly cold. Warm legs under a blanket, cold face and arms. Cat snoring, irritating. Trucks coming down my street, clanging and banging and engine roaring. Smell of diesel. War begins. Can't the wind just stop blowing, or just be warmer? Can't the cat shut up? Can't trucks like this be banned? My mind spins on and on. Tightness in my chest, shoulders rounding forward. The desire to stretch, to open up – I stretch, my vertebrae and sternum pop and crack. I breathe. Mind spinning, returning to a conversation from last night. What is wrong with him? Why can't he just speak to me, why does he always retreat? Fine, whatever. I don't need him anyway. I write him off, I try to block him from my mind. I remember the other one, the one who does listen, the one who doesn't retreat, even when I am intense. I focus on what it feels like to be accepted, and then, my mind returns to the other one, the one who has left me feeling irritated. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh! Enough!!! I can hardly stand myself. I would love to jump up, to move away, to leave behind this madness in my own head. The one who accepts me must be crazy. The one who retreats is the wise one. I imagine writing an apology email to him. What can I say that sufficiently explains that I am aware of the insanity within myself, that I am pulled by it to varying degrees from day to day? Then, a deeper thought arises. What if I merely sit here, without retreating from myself, just breathing into the madness? What if I do nothing, merely accepting this space to allow the madness to settle? Yes, that is much wiser...

I feel the urgency in my body, and I feel the superficiality of that urgency. I feel the depth below it, vast as the open sea. I feel how I spend so much time frantically treading water, trying to keep from sinking into the madness, reaching out to this or that, hoping not to drown. And I change my mind. I stop struggling. I allow myself to be pulled into the depths of this spaciousness, and I breathe. I make the commitment to myself to trust that I will not drown. The urgency settles. The madness settles. The need to do something settles. I can simply be here with all that arises around me and within me without having any reaction at all. What if I were to come here each day? Honestly, I am beginning to see how insanity comes from choosing not to meditate each day. The mind reaches and grasps, trying to make sense of life, trying to find some solid ground. It reaches out in every direction, frantic and wild. That is its nature, when allowed to run rampant. Choosing to sit in meditation is choosing to see the mind for what it is, and not giving in to its wildness. It will settle when given the chance. Why do I keep forgetting this?