Morning Meditations #51: Listening

The grandmother oak in my neighbor's front yard has been a source for kindling since I moved into this neighborhood. She is a lovely creature to be sure.
The grandmother oak in my neighbor’s front yard has been a source for kindling since I moved into this neighborhood. She is a lovely creature to be sure.

I would have written earlier in the day, but my morning energy had to be placed somewhere where it could do the most good, not sure how much good I did, but chose to listen and accept. I hope I helped.

I have been an editor all day. Part of the application process for a Creative Writing MFA is thirty pages of portfolio: twenty pages of fiction and ten of academic composition   The fiction isn’t too difficult as it is quite recent, so it bears the fruits of all my dedication and practice. The essay on the other had is a more laborious. Written in 2012, it isn’t as powerful as I would wish, yet. Understandable, as I am a thousand times the writer I was then. Maybe I just have a thousand times the confidence, and it isn’t that the essay is bad, it is just rife with errors and awkward sentences. Inverted clauses come from watching too much Deadwood (well, there is no such thing, but for the sake of argument, I felt the use of “too” would work here.) The other mistakes are due to inexperience. I had only taken one workshop class at the time I took the modern lit class, from which the essay derives. It’ll be pretty and polished by the end of the day; this, I promise myself.

As a break from editing, I had the pleasure of splitting wood. This cannot be overstated; I am addicted to chopping wood. With a bad back, this seems foolhardy, but my technique is excellent, and the back pain these days is far more manageable with improved health.

In other news, my old laptop died and tried to take several of my writings with it. I am using a borrowed machine from the best of friends (I have borrowed this laptop before and she—the laptop—loves me, my profile even sat ready for me with no changes to settings. She needed a little dusting and updates, which I lovingly executed, but she’s purring now—the laptop). Fortunately, I have a few tricks up my sleeve and recovered all data successfully. That is the definition of “close one.” So, now that that bridge is crossed, and all is well; it is time to talk about meditation for a bit.

This morning’s meditations were short, twenty minutes. I had already been up for over three hours by the time I got an opportunity to try. My mind felt fairly calm, but my body had one loud message for me, “You are tired!” Exhausted really. Stress from all my first world problems, and a few real issues, had me waking later and falling asleep later than usual. This type of break in routine, from what I have researched, can imitate the feeling of not getting good sleep. Going to have to come correct with this schedule thing.

I compensated today by taking a nap. Short, but quality meditation teachers remind students to listen to their bodies and obey. This is the essence of Kum Nye and most forms of yoga, being able to step away from the mind-body connection and witness, allowing us a way to communicate with them, which often means just listening.

Bringing this MM full circle. I can chop ridiculous amounts of wood despite a bad back because of this, I knew to give my mind sleep to ensure a productive day because of this, and I was able to listen to another person today in hopes of comfort because of this lesson. When we stop to hear our lives, to see our lives, we end up really living them, and that, Gentle Reader, is a wonderful thing to experience.


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