three things to aim for

The act of putting pen to paper encourages pause for thought, this in turn makes us think more deeply about life, which helps us regain our equilibrium. ~Norbet Platt

Writing, I think, is not apart from living. Writing is a kind of double living. The writer experiences everything twice. Once in reality and once in that mirror which waits always before or behind. ~Catherine Drinker Bowen, Atlantic, December 1957

I haven't been writing much lately and I notice the difference it makes. Time slips by without being marked or remembered. I reflect less, and struggle to engage fully with experiences.

I haven't exercised much the last week or two either, and that definitely makes a difference. My legs ache a lot more and it seems to be harder to get to sleep at night. (Or does that just come with a few more years to my name?!)

I have made it to meditation once this year, and on Friday I am attending a seminar on teaching stillness and silence. I guess if I'm going to teach children to be still, I should do it regularly myself! No doubt there are legion reasons why this would benefit me - I just need to tap into them!

Crazy that I resigned from one of my jobs and still can't find time to do these things... it all comes down to choices I suppose.

This isn't much of a post, but it is a step in the right direction. I've written something. The trick is to write more, exercise more and stop and meditate more! You can all keep me accountable perhaps.

the longest 25 minutes of my life

A few weeks ago I was watching a documentary on time. Apparently those clever scientists have discovered we can experience time at different speeds. So while time is racing for me, it may well be racing even faster for you. Or slower. Bit of a spin out that I can't get my head around, something to do with all those extra dimensions we don't really know about, string theory, and, and...

Well, now I have proof, my very own personal proof, that time truly is warped.

I decided it was about time I went to meditation again, so I tootled off with time to spare so I would arrive calm and in a good pre-meditative state.

And then we sat and sat, and the others talked about their weekend retreat, and I thought we'd never get to meditation, and I could feel my body sinking deeper into the chair and my eyelids edging ever downwards. Damn.

And when finally we started meditating, I was already so relaxed I could not hold a one word mantra together in my mind and I started day dreaming. Wonderful, soft, floating dreams, so real and inviting and JOLT... the head jerked back and forward and I woke up.

Mantra, mantra, mantra, dreaming, JOLT. Over and over again. And each dream seemed like a lifetime and I was wanting to engage with its goodness, and JOLT.

After six or seven such moments I clenched my jaw and determined to stay awake without moving a muscle. Leg cramps, itchy nose, rumbling stomach, dry mouth, but I held it together for what seemed like a lifetime.

Surely we had been meditating for an hour or more? It must be dark outside by now. Everyone else tucked up in bed while we silently chanted mantras to ourselves.

Eons later the gong sounded and we all slowly opened our eyes and stretched. The sun still shone, people were barely finishing work and (I still can't quite believe this) only twenty five minutes had passed.

Twenty five minutes? Ludicrous. We didn't even make it to thirty? My body was telling me something else altogether.

I suppose for the people counting down to knock-off time, the minutes may have dragged on as long as mine. For the other meditators, perhaps the twenty five minutes passed quite smoothly. It is possible busy mums experienced those twenty five minutes in a trice, and they came up short on time for all those little jobs calling out to them. Did we all experience time at different speeds? I would have to think so. There is no way that twenty five minute was a regular twenty five, I'm telling you!

Now, can I bear to go to meditation again? I suppose if it means my year passes more slowly, it might be worth it.

premeditated pathway

It seems I might be a stress head. I endlessly turn things over in my mind. I have trouble relaxing my body, and I rarely sit still. If I am sitting I am nearly always doing something. When I try and stop and cultivate mindfulness... I get up less than five minutes later to do that unimportant-but-suddenly-vital little task. This is not good for me, so I'm working hard to arrest these bad habits. Today I managed to sit still, move not at all, and remain silent, for twenty five minutes.

'How is this so?' you may well ask.

Meditation. Christian meditation.

It all came about by accident, although in truth I don't very much believe in accidents, unless they involve cars killing people, or bombs knocking out innocent shoppers at a local market. That is an accident. I cannot possibly conceive that any divine being could plan and desire this to happen. So, in my kind-of-an-accident-but-not-really-because-all-things-work-together-somehow moment, I was talking with the school nurse. In pondering how to address some issues in the school, she offered up meditation as a suggestion. This interested me, because I see part of my role as school chaplain being the fostering of spirituality in young souls. I am still working out how best to do this in a broad way, and meditation seems a reasonable option. We talked more, I asked for information, and the school nurse invited me to a regular session of Christian meditation at the local Catholic centre.

To be honest, I never really saw myself joining the group. Nice idea, but I'm way to busy and can't sit still to save my life. (Although if it really was a matter of life and death I suspect I could) Enter a friend asking for ideas for how to manage sleep difficulties. 'Christian meditation!' I said, 'It's supposed to bring peace and settledness and unity. I know of a group, let's go together.' And so today we went.

I'm not sure what I was expecting... certainly a more balanced representation of the sexes. Ten women, we sat in a circle around a flame and native flowers. After some initial discussion and explanation of the art and science behind meditation, we began.

Sit straight and still for the allotted time, and in your mind repeat 'Ma-ra-na-tha' (Come Lord) in syllables of equal length. Lay aside any distracting thoughts and focus on the word. Nothing magical will happen in this moment, but as contemplation and mindfulness grow, one will find healing and unity with themselves and God.

'Ma-ra-na-tha. Ma-ra... I'm going to suffocate if I don't move... -na-tha.'
'Oh, I didn't suffocate... Ma-ra-na-tha.'
'Maranatha, Maranatha, Maranatha'
'Did I just fall asleep? I think I may have... Maranatha.'
'Maranatha, Marana... what will I cook for tea tonight?... tha'
'Mara... focus Cecily, stop drifting off, honestly it's not that har... natha'
'Ma... I have so much to do tomorrow... ranatha'
'Maranatha, Maranatha, Maranatha, I think I'm getting the hang of this, Maranatha.'

And then the gong sounded, signalling the end.

I did it. I sat for thirty minutes. I did not move or talk. I meditated! I'm not sure if I was just sleepy or very relaxed, but at the end it felt good. So good my friend and I plan to go back again next week. I might even try and do a bit this week on my own. (For five minutes - don't want to set myself up for failure here!)

I'm hoping this is the beginning of less stress for Cec, and more mindfulness and steadiness in my whole life, cause I sure need it!