I usually don’t know what I’m going to write when I choose a topic. What I say or think is often a surprise for me.
What do I really think about this or that? Usually my thoughts are pretty limited. When I think of the word “meditation” or whatever, I’ll usually have one thought or image. Maybe I’ll think about sitting last night and how afterwards I lied when I asked everyone to say in one word how their meditation went.
I said “busy” and actually I was preoccupied with a pain in my leg. It takes a lot of strength to sit up on a chair. I sit on the edge of the chair and try to sit so that I’m neither leaning backwards or forward.
My left leg seems to hurt when I’m leaning one way or the other.
I decided to work on counting my breaths to ten, and then starting again. Sometimes I would get distracted and start thinking about things, then I would feel my leg, and then go back to the counting. I’m usually tired when I start sitting, but more rested at the end.
I remember hoping that the time would end. I don’t do that so much anymore.
Sometimes my eyes were closed, and sometimes they were open a little.
Maybe I was busy.
Am I convinced that meditation is a cure-all for my ills or the ills of the world? No! Am I more alive when I’m meditating that when I’m in a busy environment. Yes.
Sometimes I think that if I had an hour to live then I’d want to sit. Some of the people in the group used “peaceful” as their word to describe their sitting.
I will write more in the future about this curious activity. In a Zen temple, it is so public and so private at once. I like that dichotomy.