Heartwishes

Crazy week. People giving me sh** about things that aren't any of their damn business. At 41, I realize that I'm entitled to make my own decisions regardless of what others think, but I still have no problem falling into the provocation trap should the opportunity arise.

Now that I'm really trying to apply new techniques to my meditation, I've discovered that my heart doesn't feel open and full of light. No, my heart often feels dark, and sometimes I get a hard clump in my chest as though my heart was made of stone. Dislike.

It's been easier to move my mind up towards my brain. Being a lover of rules and order, I need to first deal with a lot of things intellectually in order for them to take root, even things of an emotional or creative nature. Which is why I'm loving my Sally Kempton book, "Meditation for the Love of It". It's like a cookbook with tons of meditative recipes. And like any cookbook, you have to try different recipes to find what suits your taste. Since taste is individual, I recognize that if one method doesn't do it for me, I can try another.

Still, this feeling of darkness around my heart has been a concern. When a yoga participant recently shared that she experienced an epiphany while taking part in a yoga workshop I was teaching with some others, naturally I was happy for her, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit to feeling somewhat jealous as well. What she told me was while she was thinking about how grateful she was about her circumstances, she was suddenly overcome with a strong feeling of sheer and utter joy. Hmm, just like the book said.

Grateful. Thankful. Gratitude. I so get that. So why is it so hard for my heart to realize it, too?

Then I reached a turning point this week. Not in meditation, instead while I was thinking about everyone that was annoying me. I suddenly realized that I didn't want to be pissed off anymore. And so it began.

I still haven't reached a point of awakening in meditation, but "the shell that separates me from love" doesn't feel as thick.

I think I could even sense the arrival of dawn.

It's one thing to talk the talk...

...but we all (should) know that talk is cheap

...and what matters is how we walk the walk!

I have to admit, it's very convenient to label myself a "seeker" so that I don't have to overly exert myself to actually change something. I get all the creative urges that can be associated with the seeker - I long to go on retreats, read selfhelp books on philosophy and meditation, and search online for artistic summer courses. I fantasize about changing my exercise routines and eating habits at the same time I strongly consider the ontake of a simpler lifestyle that's more sustainable with less consumption.

Then the urge turns more into an itch, and that's when I feel like something, anything, has to happen. It could be that I start longing for new clothes, workout equipment, along with a sundae from the Ben & Jerry's café. I buy some wine (still unopened) in order to set the mood for the romantic evening I dream of my P and I having once the kids have gone to sleep.

I make plans. I make promises. And instead of actually doing these things, I keep on searching, usually by Internet, for more. It's like I'm the "non-adrenaline" seeker; the effort it takes to get going somehow manages to outweigh that insatiable longing for more.

And so yet again, late last night, I was online admiring a print that had caught my eye a few months earlier. When I googled the quote depicted in this print, I discovered that there were a number of others that had made their own version of this print. Then it dawned on me; the orginal artist was perhaps not the one who had come up with this particular saying... And if there were others making their own prints...

Turning around, I reached up to the top shelf of the bookshelf behind me and pulled down my small painting box that I had bougt for a summer course my husband had treated me to last summer. I grabbed my sketch pad and googled fonts. Then I spent the next two hours (although it felt more like 20 minutes), making sketches and drawing.

After all this time, I hadn't realized that I had it in me to create something on my own. Either that, or I just didn't dare try.

Picture from Google