Day 34 – turtle as a verb

I feel like crap today, did an interesting thing though. Started my meditation while still feeling like crap. Usually I putz around ’til some combo of food, meds, coffee, napping, gets me feeling like I can start my day, and then I sit. Today I just sat. Sat with feeling like crap. Just allowed myself to be fully present in that, instead of trying to distract myself or fix it.

Can’t say as it was a hugely transformative meditation, but it feels like a good exercise in willlingness; and letting go of expectations. I don’t really feel any better for sitting, but I think it mattered that I sat, and I think it mattered that it doesn’t really matter to me that sitting didn’t help.

It also didn’t help much with coming up with something to write. I’ve got stuff simmering down there somewhere, but none of it is anywhere near cooked yet, so nothing’s coming up. I’m processing things, but at a pretty internal level, it would be pointless to try and push any of that into words right now.

I’ve done a lot of pushing and stretching and expanding, and that can’t carry on indefinitely. Life is breath: the open and close, the expansion and contraction. Keep doing just one side of that and you’ll explode… or collapse. It ain’t natural.

So for now I turtle, draw inwards, get quiet. And the idea of that seems very comforting, there’s no feeling of constraint in this closing up for a while.

…funny, I think I feel the tension of constraint more when I’m expanding.


One thought on “Day 34 – turtle as a verb

  1. Sometimes when I get depressed, I’m on holiday. Probably a different crap than yours, Valerie. Suddenly I’m anxious, we’re all doomed, not much is enjoyable, and it seems like that’ll last forever. That’s one time when I have to carry on, somewhat. Be with myself and the people around me. Rather than seeking oblivion. Yet I don’t have to fake it in the same way as at the workplace.

    It’s interesting. What I can do, and what I can’t. What I remember after. A sense of the places I was, an ability to recreate them and feel connected, even though I was struggling with not being able to stand myself at the time. Sometimes in the passenger seat, my interest in new sights and old memories cuts in and out of anxiety, discomfort and bad recent memories. Sometimes I grab the sight of a glorious tree turned golden, like a leap, before depression, like gravity, hits.

    It’s better if I have some hours where I can withdraw. Better if I don’t have to plan much or drive too much or do anything skilled for long. But it’s also better to have that pressure to stay inside my skin, for a few hours.

    Like

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