I “sat” for 20 minutes this morning. That means I meditated. As always, my goal is to be aware, mindful and to notice without hanging on.
Immediately, I noticed the way my neck felt. It felt weird, tight, not horribly so, but enough to make me think about skulls and spines. And skeletons in museums, how small they all seem. Is it lack of water? When all the juiciness of life has gone out of us, are we all just frail little mineral forms, barely touching the earth?
Ahem. THAT was a tangent. Back to the breath.
Focus on heart opening. Letting love flow through. Dislodge fear and let it go.
My throat chakra is very blocked. I know this because people who are in to chakras are always telling me this. Remember the therapist who wanted me to shout or scream. (I couldn’t.) Or the boyfriends with their endless “what are you thinking?” (Really? Aren’t guys supposed to be oblivious to this?) Crying while singing hymns because the words and breath force feelings from my heart through my throat and, apparently, out of my eyes.
Interesting. No need to wonder why. No need for explanations. Just look at it. Breathe. Let it go.
What if it will always be this way?
Ah, that fear wasn’t stuck in my throat. It came directly from my heart. Some people fear impermanence, but I fear the changeless more.
What if I make a decision that I can never take back and it’s the wrong one? What if I will always be in struggle? What if my go-with-the-flow breaks someone’s heart? (Again?) Why must I stand on solid rock when all I really want to do is ride the river and see where it takes me?
Detach. Breathe. Breathe again. OK. Is that true? Is there anything truly changeless? Besides, you know the best way to stop struggling with something?
Stop struggling.
Oh.
And with that all the fear surrounding “what if it’s always this way?” disappears. I look at the question peaceably for a moment, then let it go, watching it float away in my mind’s eye, weightless and irrelevant.
Breathe in, breathe out.
A few niggling thoughts about the day. They are let go too. As I breathe into my heart, there seems to be a little more room. One spot of scared tightness has eased somewhat from its defensive contraction.
The timer sounds and I take a deep breath. Except for respiration, my body hasn’t moved for 20 minutes. But my mind… It went to ancient Egypt, 1987, my first job, my second job, what color should I paint the living room, this is why I could never commit to a city/man/tattoo. And then finally, it let go of the struggle for an answer. Rested with what is.
There was an awful lot of busy in the stillness today.