A week ago, I got on a plane to come home. Meditated on the plane. It took me a while to post the blog that I wrote. I've not posted since. Why? Because, I've hardly meditated.
What is this about? I was doing so well--in a routine, enjoying the breathing. Enjoying the routine. Feeling virtuous. Feeling good about sticking to my commitment. Keeping promises.
And since? I've been doing what I always do when I fail to follow through with an agreed upon task. Punishing myself. Avoiding thinking about what I am NOT doing that I AGREED to do. Eating chocolates. Reading late into the night. Erupting in heart pounding anxiety about NOT DOING what I'd set out to do. Then, the aftermath of this disturbance--"Well, come on, Pam, you are not a monster."
And not once in all of that AGONY have I just said, SIT. Get back to the meditation. Wow. This is so TIRING. And, I wonder if this push me-pull me affects other aspects of my life.
It does. It takes me forever to 'get into" a new project. I start. I stop. I procrastinate. I beat myself up about not doing it. I beat myself up about doing it. Then, I get mad at all this punishment and 'comfort' myself with a piece of chocolate, (or three or four), a glass of wine and two hours of television.
Eventually, I do USUALLY get back to the project--whether it is researching for a new film, or exercising daily, or committing to walking my elderly dog twice a day instead of once. But, at what cost?
I think that my meditation today, and maybe for quite some time will practice on self-compassion. I also, now really understand the power of routine. I have avoided routines, and schedules. I like to think that I can allow myself to FEEL when something is right to do, or not do. And yet, this lack of routine, or constant disruption of routines, has led me to this agony of guilt and punishment and procrastination.
So, yes. Meditate. Back to it. Long breaths in. OM out. Pay attention.
I AM paying attention right now. In fact, despite all my complaints about how bad I am, I actually DO pay attention. My fingers tap these keys. The sun warms my back and spills over the keyboard. My dog sleeps in the other room after a walk. My house hums quietly. I am here.