Morning Meditations #94: Evening Phantoms and Battles Lost

The last MM was three weeks ago. It isn’t that I haven’t been inspired to write in that time. Most of my composition has been on the website in the last two months. The reason, if I had to guess one, is guilt.

MM 94
The last time I stayed in Peenemunde, she would be my first visitor. We danced for a bit, and then I made sure she made it home safely, just outside, in a briar patch.

Morning Meditations were created as a way for me to be transparent to myself and to the world, to show my great talents alongside my ugliest behavior. In this mission, I have been failing, which in my opinion, has led to some failures in life. Not to give the impression that I am somehow failing at life, I am so not failing at life right now—driven, appreciated, moving forward. Yet, some of these must be exercised.

The smoking thing has tried to beat its way back into my world. Bumming from every pack that walks through the door, this is not what my goal looked like what I hadn’t smoked a single cigarette in months. Oh, addiction. The good news is that I haven’t bought myself a personal pack of smokes since before last Thanksgiving and it had been august before that. So, yeah. I have smoked some over the last 10 months, but the war is being won. Still, this isn’t where I want to be, and the increase over this spring reveals that not every skirmish is going my way.

I had also become lazy with my early mornings. 04:20 turned into 05:00, which descended incrementally into 05:30, to 06:00. Boo. Not cool. I hate that this battle is being lost, because when I wake at the originally scheduled time, I rock this fuckin’ world. All winter I published MM after MM, and wrote fiction, and transcribed my father’s travel journal, and etc., but now, I only have time to get a 700 worder out every three days between my edits and studio engineering. Pissed, y’all. Bringing my broad sword.

Physical therapy and meditation have suffered as well. Over the last week, the physical therapy has come back into the limelight, issues with the legs and back forced a change, which is a win. A growing maturity is revealed when one listens to their body and then takes action to self-heal. This is one of the tenets of Kum Nye and most meditative practices. Listen to your body and obey. I had been slacking, sure, but this seems to be already turned around. Meditation less so, but that changed this morning, in fact, it is all changing today.

I did wake at 04:20 today; I did meditate; I am not going to smoke.  I will do some yoga and get a real workout in today. Writing this, here and now, it is 05:40, and I am beyond glad that awakened on time. That, in turn, led me have plenty of time to sit and find my breath. Now I am typing away, expressing one of my greatest, most important quests, vulnerability. And falling asleep last night, I didn’t know if I would make it.  As sleep would only come after difficulty.

The old reconciliation fantasies donned in their most lovely forms. The danced behind my closed eyes like ghosts made from silk ribbons; their cool, smooth caress soothe my sadness at first, but the darkness left by their exodus comes with a palpable and painful sadness. I spent these moments patiently awaiting these fantasies. I would catch one in my mind, noticing it and letting it speak to me. I would then tell the phantom, “I love you. I am so sorry,” in order for it to go. I would then try to find my breath until the next one came. After a little while they subsided, falling away to more productive and relevant thoughts, much easier to notice and let go of those.

Another battle won. Another morning meditation.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s