I write less here when I’m meditating more. Not sure what that means. I think it was Mordecai Richler who said that writing was his meditation.
My meditation technique is Vipassana, a non-sectarian lifestyle practice that is connected to Buddhism but not beholden to it. (I don’t have a jolly fat man idol in my house). Vipassana strives to help people see things “as they are, not as you want them to be.” It’s a tough challenge. Essentially, what you do is sit or kneel in silence and start by monitoring your breath in and out of your nose. Then as the noise and clutter of your mind settles, you start to move your heightened awareness over your body, simply observing whatever sensations you feel. The meditation practice nurtures a refined awareness, but also an understanding of the fact of impermanence.
Everything in life is changing from second to second. Everything passes. I spent about 15 minutes last night observing and contemplating the tingling, creeping feeling of skin drying on my cheek. It was fascinating, and I was totally absorbed by it. (No kidding). Then it stopped.
Doing this has helped me to be better focused during the rest of the day, more observant of little things, more open to simple joys. I am also less worried by the fact that for the first time in 6 years I have no work lined up for next month (For quality writing or communications support services, please call 613 260-7277. Thank you).
Henry David Thoreau wrote that “The man is richest whose pleasures are the cheapest.” It seems simple, but it’s so hard to keep focused on this, kind of like being aware of your skin drying.
