I have meditated continually since the challenge stopped at the end of February and I do feel a shift of consciousness. April Fool's brought another 12 inches to mid coast Maine so change is real but subtle. Just like my meditation. I do think that writing about the experience of meditation sharpened my awareness of it. So I would say I miss blogging. Where I feel the shift is in an increased ability to let go at certain times and begin again. Here are a few short stories of my challenges to practice letting go.

Trash Can
Morning Time to feed the dogs. I reach for the container of dog food on top of the refrigerator. It topples to the floor when my shoulder tweaked. Spilling grains and dried vegetables all over the kitchen floor. I bellow in dismay. "Anyone die?" My husband calls down from his computer upstairs. "Nooooo!" Then I simply grab the dust pan and begin to sweep up the tiny flakes of grains and bits of dried vegetable and dump them into the trash can. The annoyance of having to stop my routine and sweep and the annoyance of an arthritic shoulder I dump as well.

The Big Pilot
 I was on a prop plane from Maine to Newark with my son, Cooper. All flights into Newark were canceled or delayed because of torrential March rains in New York. We got on our flight 7 hours late at 8 pm. My son went right to sleep. I did not.  I am a nervous flyer in any kind of turbulence and especially in the dark. I decided to meditate half way there. That was a challenge to return to the breath as the decent seemed endless and the pane was being batted around like a mosquito. I opened my eyes and pulled up the window shade to a wall of fog and mist then promptly shut it and my eyes again.The plane heaved and swayed in the rain and wind. I knew my holding on could do no good toward getting this plane safely on the ground. This was a job for the big pilot.. My body was steaming. The practice of letting go and beginning again to follow the breath was having an effect.  I knew this situation was not just my anxiety, this was some real danger. My breathing had managed to keep me some what calm. My son woke up with the next jolt. He was disoriented and I could tell frightened. I pulled up the shade to see the lights of Newark as we were tossed right and left over the runway. The plane landed with a tremendous bang. Then the passengers were thrown against the seat in front of them with the force of the brakes. We had made it.  I always thank the pilots when I leave a plane. Waiting for our carry on bags, I asked the pilot where he would rate that landing between one and ten. He took a moment and looked back up at me, " That was a twelve. There will be no other planes landing in Newark tonight". Thank You meditation. Thank You big pilot.

College Admissions- the thin envelope.
My son has wanted to go to this college, who shall not be named, since he was 15. He told his brother about it and his brother is now a freshman there and loving it. He applied this year early decision but was deferred in December. He hoped to be accepted with the late March decisions. I was the one who opened the mailbox Monday March 21st. I pulled all the mail into my lap. A big heavy envelope from a college he was least interested in and then at the bottom a small thin envelope from his number one. My heart sank. Maybe he'll be wait listed. I tore the letter open. He had been denied outright. This would be the biggest disappointment in his 17 years. He would think why did my brother get in and not me..The stinger was in deep. No tweezers available. The add ons started flowing. What if he had been willing to do that SAT course and could have raised his scores? What if I had been willing to call in my contact to the President. What if he had written another letter to the admissions office after he got back from Spain this winter....then anger, then disappointment....Now the boys would not be together through their college years and he would miss this unique education and positive college environment .... I have been listening to Sharon's meditation on Facing Challenges often in the last few weeks. It is damn hard to bear the sting of disappointment. When I remember to return to the breath and begin again the rush of presence returns. The sting fades and I remember all is well.