Ah, New York City. I am getting to know you more and more each day, yet I still have the lingering expectation that I might happen to experience a moment of true silence with you.
And instead of embracing the sounds of this bustling metropolis as catalysts for concentration, I have been rejecting them, brushing them aside with annoyance.
Today on my yoga mat, the person next to me was moaning and groaning, stomping, slamming, sweating. I tried repeatedly to bring my concentration inward, to refrain from judging. Then I would spiral into judging myself for reacting to this person; I was judging my judgment.
You might know what I’m talking about.
Then I came home and listened to Day 2, the Hearing Meditation. Suddenly the cars whizzing outside my apartment window became objects of curiosity. The music that began blaring shortly after I started writing this post was a signal that I could return to my breath, inquisitive and soft.
And the person at yoga will now become a gentle reminder to let go, and begin again.
From the perspective of sound as a signpost for concentration, this city provides infinite opportunities.
I love this shift in context.
Onward.
