Another lovely vacation day, where the boldest thing I did wasn’t really bold at all: I meditated in public. On the beach, legs crossed, eyes closed…no audible chanting. Not really a brave thing, but an authentic moment without regard for others’ opinions.
With a lot of good press in recent years, meditation probably doesn’t seem quite as eccentric to non-practitioners as it once did. Still, most of the other moms nearby seemed focused on sunscreen rather than their breathing.
I am trying to establish a consistent meditation practice. Two things make it difficult: the discipline required to set aside time every day and the fact that it frustrates the heck out of me.
Some days, I am in the zone—relaxed, clearheaded, focused—and I feel light and grounded at the same time. It seems like I have about as much control over producing that state as I do over the weather, but these are the days that make me keen to continue.
Other days, like today, I talk to myself, remember a task to add to the list, or wonder what it would feel like to be hit in the head with a football. Two boys were having a catch to my left. I don’t have an irrational fear of footballs or anything.
On days like that, I remind myself that noticing thoughts is the first step in arriving at the present moment. And I focus on my breathing for a solid three seconds, when I remember a funny story I want to share with someone.
The football never came near me, in case you were wondering.