Meditation 44 – 50 minutes
Exercise 52
A late morning. Meditation. I remember again. If I continue to sit consistently, the mind doesn’t wander as much. It doesn’t complain. I can surpass the clock time, into a state of suspension. In peace and acceptance. I can feel my upper back. The sensations pulse through my body, even when I am not meditating.
A homeless man sleeps on the bench, unaware of his surroundings. It’s another busy day on the promenade. A tall man with the smallest dog. A little girl wearing a princess outfit on her scooter. Another one looking like a unicorn on her tricycle as her mom waves back at her. A couple wearing matching white t-shirts.
Lunch breakfast at the Kanela Cafe, sharing space with The Greek Fisherman. A group of three young ladies to my right talk about one’s upcoming trip to Portugal.
After setting up meetings, aligning on team’s deliverables and cleaning up a file, two hours have passed. I pack up my bags to head over to Starbucks. I don’t know how this place makes money. You don’t need to order anything to hang out here. They open till late, and I will be here until I’m done with my long over-due analysis.
As I sit here, after finalizing Boston stays with the two boy cousins, I wonder. What is consciousness? What does it mean to be unconscious?
Homeless sleeping their lives away, with no willful actions. Begging children on the sides of street. I stick to my guidelines of do not engage street people. Deliberately protecting my space to enjoy myself as I walk around my neighborhood.
To be unconscious doesn’t mean to sleep. It doesn’t mean immobility. Because even if you are asleep, with the body motionless, the body still feels and remembers everything. Just because you are ‘seen’ to be unconscious doesn’t mean you can do anything with or to the body. For as long as the body is alive, it will feel and remember everything, even in vegetative state. And so, what they say about your body being the most important temple rings true.
To be unconscious is to live a life without clear intent. Blowing as the wind directs you, like a rudderless sail and missing captain. Like the beggar. Like how I used to live. Doing the best of what is given to me.
What does it mean to move from healing to living? Growing as we go on. I am done with healing. What is past is past. I want to move on. I am moving on.
I wonder if it’s as simple and impossible as sticking to routines that work for us. Like waking up early and meditating. Going for a walk right after, if working from home. Leaving home, to have something to come back to. A sanctuary instead of a self-imprisoned cell. Like last week, I didn’t leave for two days and felt the aftermath on my total being. Utterly depressed, questioning all of my life’s choices. When returning home, washing and brushing, going straight to sleep. Don’t stop and see what’s in the fridge. Message from friends. Emails. Because I don’t care. There is nothing in my life that cannot wait until tomorrow. I am not a doctor. I’m not a parent. I am responsible for myself.
Euphoria and elation is the opposite of depression. This, I feel often. So is it only normal to feel depressed after? Am I too happy? Depression is just the other side of the equation? Like a seesaw with me on both sides. One is light and the other darkness?
Here is to living a more conscious life full of deliberations and intentions into everything we do. Being clear of not just our actions, but inactions and procrastinations that take away choices.
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