Number fifty. So far so good with MMs. It feels great to be writing at 6:00 again. Way better than geometry studies. Don’t get me wrong, I have said that I enjoyed my studies of late, but I feel releived. Ah, and in good coincidence, my first official writing candle burnt out at the end of the previous sentence. Makes sense.
I, with this post, am officially beginning a new writing challenge. Since this is the first writings of the day, verification with you, Gentle Reader, that I indeed do hit at least 1k will be impossible until tomorrow’s post. I am confident in your patience. This reminds me that it has been several posts since discussing The Writer’s Challenge (a new official title), so for any noobs this is the breakdown: minimum requirement for writing per day is one thousand words of composition, no texts, grocery lists, etc. That is the essence of the challenge; my personal challenge is three thousand words daily. Some people balk at that number, but doable, as I have hit the mark several times during the first run, which lasted into the early 70s. So, meditation this morning had its own flavor.
This morning’s meditation took place outside in the chill a little after 5:00, a walking meditation along the path featured in the photo from yesterday’s post. The low-hanging clouds raced across the navy blue sky while one single star, I believe to be Sirius, watched over my leaf-rustling ambulation.
I tried to find my breath, but the immediate attack of negativity startled me. Being bothered by cold, disingenuous words from a surprising source yesterday kept popping up in my consciousness. I must have been really bothered by this event because I became worried I wouldn’t be able to shake it this morning. I never felt sadness become prominent, but I didn’t feel the day would benefit by this being my morning frame of mind. So, I attempted to let it go, several times, and finally finding a source for release in kindness.
I decided to hold this person accountable, but to also listen to why they would behave in such a way to me. Hopefully a dialogue will ensue. And, with this loose plan of action set, I could finally get over the insult. Which left the rest of my day.
I put my Mala away; choosing instead to find my breath without the aid of any tools, to just be with myself—and the
crunching leaves. There was still a bit of chatter in my mind, but fortunately, my little path has quirky plant life reaching out to caress and/or snag: tree leaves, tree roots, a shrub, and several small vines which line the privacy fences along the eastern side of my yard. Finding my breath came easier among these caring friends. This also opened some bandwidth for focused thought on the day.
I know that sounded a little hippyesque, but hey, maybe they were onto something. I walk this path several times a day, and there is a comfort to the repeated brushes. There are also reminders to be in the moment and aware whenever I trip over a maple root. And, in there own and very unique way, these yardmates are every bit as impactful a part of my environment as the hominid companions who come for visits or the one living along side me. Even if that weren’t true, they helped me find my center today. Gratitude for being right where I am at is a wonderful feeling.