On drifting, insomnia and cake

It is easy to drift away, especially when you feel tired. When you are under-slept, or stressed, or when you have too many things demanding your attention. In times like these it is hard to focus, to stay away from that cake (notice I didn't even bother with the word slice), to still your mind and to even understand what it is that you need.

I once came across this Zen proverb that says that you should sit in meditation for twenty minutes every day - unless you're too busy; then you should sit for an hour. And this feels wrong and counter-intuitive, but such is the nature of life. Or rather, the society we created makes this look counter-intuitive because it goes against the rat race mentality. This rush, rush, rush to get everything done, to have more, to be more, to showcase an unblemished life where we are always strong and level-headed.

I suffer from bouts of insomnia. I will sleep like a baby for weeks, and then have a really terrible night, which can turn into a poorly slept week, until my body finally tires itself out and finds balance once again.

I am going through one such bout right now. So all I want to be left alone to read my book with a dragon portion of cookies. In my current state I don't really care about being sensible, and that's okay. I don't want to meditate, I can't focus for more than thirty seconds at a time and screw body scanning!

All my life I wanted to be strong and faultless. Which is to say I did not want to be perceived as ignorant and weak. But if the last few years have taught me anything is that it is pointless to fight having flaws. You will falter and you will lose your way at times; that's normal and to be expected. No one can be strong all the time; everything in nature goes through peaks and troughs, so it would be unnatural to expect humanity to be anything different than the wonderful (albeit infuriating) roller coaster we are. So wish not for the strength to withstand all storms, but rather wish for the wisdom and awareness to understand there is a storm.

At the end of the day all I really need is to accept I am not at my best and self-nurture. It would be pointless to force myself to meditate, but on days like today I am aware meditation-like stuff is medicinal and could save me a world of trouble. So I lovingly take care of myself as I would a sick loved one. I am patient because my mind can only do so much. I celebrate everything I do right, because everything is a small conquest. I do less, so much less. Less talking, less interacting with others, less distractions, less food (because in my state it would certainly be the wrong kind of food), less overthinking, less commitments.

...

I re-read the first few sentences of this point and this is not where I wanted to take this post. Which perfectly illustrates my point. I understand my mind is a bit of jumble of things today. I accept, understand and love the mess. I will make sure the world is safe from it. And I will sit tightly to avoid that cake.

The quest for zen

For a few years now I have dabbed in meditation. This was on the back of several studies I came across, all proving that a short but regular meditation practice helps you to rewire your brain and develop the amount of grey matter you have. It has proven to be particularly helpful for victims of childhood trauma who suffer from excessive neural pruning. At this point I must say that I am not minimally qualified to discuss the medical benefits of meditation, so if you want to find out more, I would highly advise you to look it up.

Anyway, about three years ago I downloaded the Headspace app, and off I went. The Headspace app offers a series of different packs on a variety of subjects to help you bring mindfulness into all areas of your life. I did the foundation pack and then started on packs on happiness, acceptance, and others. At first I struggled to concentrate; all these new concepts were a complete novelty. With time I found it got considerably easier to focus on my breath or the sounds around me, or even how my body felt. It was peaceful and I left feeling replenished. I felt settled, like a pond that finally quietens after a pebble was thrown in and the ripples have finally stopped growing.

Which brings me to now. Now I feel like an impostor. Eight times out of ten I spend most of my meditation session thinking about work or my grocery list. It's like my mind doesn't take it seriously anymore and just bypasses it completely. I know why it's important. I know how much better I'll feel once I open my eyes again. I just find it hard to stay focused. And the more I am aware of this, the more I struggle.

So I found ways around it. I pick a song, put my headphones in, and keep my eyes and my mind clear from start to finish. I focus on the song, on the words and the melody.

I sit cross legged in front of the mirror and I look at my body. The eyes that allow me to see the world. The feet and legs that allow my to move. The arms that carry so much, the hands that intertwine with another set of hands, that type and hold a fork from plate to mouth. The nose where I see my mother's family.

I pick an object in my life and give thanks to the thousands of people between me and that item. Think I am exaggerating? Let's make the exercise with a mug of coffee then! Someone had to grow and care for the coffee plant. Someone had to harvest it and ground the beans. Someone had to package it and sell it. People had to design and produce the package it comes in. It had to be imported, then stored in a warehouse, driven to a supermarket, put on the system and later on a shelf. Now do the same with the mug. And the kettle where you boil the water to make it. Before you notice it, your life as you know it relies on millions and millions of other people. And all this time you were thinking backwards on the human effort behind a simple mug of coffee you haven't been obsessing over your life. Job done!

I am sure I could carry on, but you get the gist.

I still want to incorporate meditation in the traditional sense into my life. And forgive myself for not being perfect at it. For having days (months!) when I downright suck at it. After all there is a reason why they call it a practice.

Back again

So here I am again, almost a year since my last post.

I know I have always been a fickle blogger, and quite frankly I am okay with that. This is a space I created mostly for me. If anyone chooses to read these posts (if they happen to like them), then great! If not, then I'm comfortable with what I have.

This year I decided to be more focused and organised. Enter bullet journaling! If you don't know what it is, then go out and read all about it; it's awesome! Imagine having a notebook to keep your whole life organised. It's a diary, a journal, a planner, a list space, a drawing notebook, all rolled into one. Plus you get to personalise it as much as you want and make it pretty!

I had high hopes for this because it meant I could just write anytime, anywhere. Here is where I went wrong: as romantic as it is, I don't actually like my handwriting, and I find my handwriting speed infuriatingly slow. I much rather go through the bother of turning my laptop and only writing a few times a week (and I'm being grossly optimistic here!), than facing an empty page, only to see it (ever so) slowly being filled with an untidy handwritten text.

So that leads me to here and now.

I am hopelessly in love with bullet journaling, I just won't be using it for texts where I would - plain and simple - rather type.

So here's to what is left of 2018. Let's make it awesome!