Blech. I’ve had a stressful week, and admittedly have mostly been approaching my mediation with the goal of just frickin’ sit still for a bit. Which I don’t discount as valuable; I’ve learned often the meditation will do you, even if you don’t do it very well.
So today I sat with a bit more intention: to really let myself still, approach it with a willing openness to let things arise.
Well, that wasn’t fun.
Most uncomfortable sit I’ve had in a long time. Physically uncomfortable – I had a real strong pressure building up in my sternum; and emotionally uncomfortable as I felt everything from a vague sense of being threatened, to deep sadness, and a good dose of scrappy spiritual pugnacity.
Now, I could rationalize that with talk on the ego identity being threatened by the arising of the true Self…yadda yadda yadda. But holy crap am I ever tired of listening to myself think. Tired of trying to think my way out of whatever’s going on, without having any real comprehension of what I’m working on anyway.
The most insightful thing to arise from my mediation today was the remembrance of this xkcd comic:
My normal approach is useless here. Thinking isn’t gonna help, and without that, I don’t know what to do. Except sit. And let the meditation do me, ’cause I don’t know what else to do…