Meditation and mindfulness have been like an elusive jellyfish; beautiful and always slipping through my fingers. I operate along a spectrum from struggling to bring myself to crawl out of bed, to being creatively productive, and motivated. Between the swings I am a generally happy person, and have grown to be more content with where I am at. Over the past four years I have been in observation of myself in some regards. Seeing the patterns, the habits, acknowledging where they come from. My triggers, and uncomfortable places, and what makes me come alive. I have put most my energy into bringing myself to life. To drowning out sadness with continual movement. I like to push myself to be challenged, to be uncomfortable and to not allow for negative patterns to catch me. Maybe your thinking, ‘glad you figured out what works’ 🙂 trouble is, living in only a part of my Self, is not fully living. So facing the sadness, and the insularity of my being is calling me to slow enough for it not just to catch me, but to fill me entirely. I do not believe that self destructive habits are part of who I am, when they arise it is a manifestation of a part of me that needs care. Since coming back to the Pacific Northwest I have felt emotionally supported and held. Realizing where my sense of place resides, and melting into it is developing a layer of resonance in all my pursuits. I am here, and I have been gathering the bones of who I forming into. Meditation and mindfulness I have been turned onto by many teachers. I have been told that quieting my busy mind will help me be present, that the chorus of thoughts is okay to step away from. I know that I could benefit from a regular practice. So as I do, I have idealized it. With an introductory understanding of the power and practices I have proclaimed myself versed enough to move forward. Though the last time I tried to ‘meditate’ my asleep foot kicked over my coffee, soaking into my mother’s new carpet. An embarrassing stain to explain. I have wanted to claim my end of hot yoga savasana as meditation, though it is truly when I am thinking about if there will be a long line for the shower, and if I need anything at the store for dinner. The thought of sitting in unstirred silence is a challenge for me of marathon proportions. My Everest. Though it is something that calls me to a new kind of learning, to a more mature, deepened recognition of the healing that must take place. I am terrified of the commitment. Not because of the potential to fail — I have failed plenty of things many times over — I am afraid of my own potential. Why and how this is possible, I do not yet have the words to explain. It’s mysterious to me why I continually hold myself back, perhaps safety is in there being an untapped potential. Meditation is my practice, my journey, and a path I need to walk alone. Alone with the pieces of my Self I have collected. My struggles and self destructive habits, my loves and frustrations, my strengths and gifts; these are the bones. My spirit is light and whimsy, she can come to life easy, though is just as quick to be beaten and bruised. Stagnation, rough patches, I may maintain composure but bleed internally, and I am still not always able to tell when I am bleeding. Instead what I see is self doubt, excessiveness, anxiety with too little sleep and too much food. I want to lovingly embrace my shortcomings because they are part of me. To maybe even dance with them into a full release, letting them go, to free my mind, my heart and move into the life I can have. It is all a part of my process and finding the beauty in this introspection has been different. I leave in one day for a 10 day silent Vipassana retreat, at the Northwest Vipassana center. I feel ready, but am shameless to admit there is still fear there. I look forward to sharing my experience afterward.