Meditation Deprivation

I hate not meditating in the morning. Meditating in the morning sort of like looking in the mirror and combing your first thing, only it’s combing your mind instead, making it behave before you get out of the starting box. Most mornings I wake up and just breathe deeply for ten minutes, trying to empty my mind, letting any intrusive thoughts drift away, like leaves that have fallen into a river. I allow myself to be breathed on the breath of God, as St. Theresa of Avila would have it, and to take in great breaths of energy and light. Next I wake up my chakras, get them glowing, spinning, online, moving energy up and down the spine from earth the crown, connecting with the divine, letting healing light shine through me, aligning me to my higher self and my higher purpose. All this is in an upright position, sitting zazen, or my approximation of it. Sometimes I throw some chanting in there that my sensei taught me years ago. Then I sit back on my pillows and get out my healing notebook, leafing through the several sections labeled Attunement, Affirmations, Gratitude, Goals, and Listening. It helps program me for the day. I’ve written a page or two for each section and it takes me about 10 minutes each time I do it. With the breathing, the chakra visualization, and the notebook, it takes me about 30-40 minutes.

Today I awoke at 4:30 am, way too early, so after getting up to pee and to take the meds and supplements that want to be taken without food, I went back to bed and tried to go back to sleep. I thought all of the sleepy thoughts I could think of but far more interesting thoughts kept popping through even though my body was still in hibernation mode. I finally gave up, turned on the light, and started reading. I’m currently reading Anne Lamott’s latest book on faith, in large print, which is good, because when I wake up in the middle of the night (and when it’s still dark out and before 5:30 am I refuse to consider it early morning) I can’t focus my eyes particularly well. I love her essays on faith, on being so terribly imperfect, like the rest of us; I can identify. Except that I’m not so brutally honest.

I don’t dwell on my imperfections. When Yom Kippur comes around and I’m at services and listening to the whole litany of transgressions so we can stand and atone, I always listen to them and think, I haven’t been so bad. Most of these don’t apply to me. I really tried my best under the circumstances. And then, the next part of the service says (to paraphrase) “and for those of you who don’t think this applies to you, you guys are the worst of all.” Yeah, well…um, busted. Yom Kippur is not my favorite holiday, and it’s not just because of the fasting all day, because that’s not my style either. It’s that I’m lousy at apologies. I tend to sound like an early Steve Martin routine, “Well, ex-cuuuuuse meee!” when I try to apologize. I sound like a member of the Bush administration or one of their supporters when I try to apologize. I suck at it. I know that atonement is at-one-ment, becoming one with All That Is, and my ability to apologize and atone is definitely a barrier to my ascension to the divine. Quel dommage. Tante pis. Yep, I’ve got a bad attitude. That’s why I need to meditate. That’s one of the many reasons I need to meditate.

So finally, I fell asleep at 6: 30 or so and slept in until 8:15 when it was time to launch into what I now consider a busy day, at least for someone who no longer works 40 hours a week. No time for meditation, but at least I’m well rested, at there’s a lot to be said for that. No time for yoga, but while I wait for Stephen when he’s at physical therapy at OHSU (I’m his chauffeur) I’m able to type on my computer, which I haven’t had time for in ages. Next stop today is Good Sam where I need to drop off a couple of post-mastectomy vests for a friend who just had a mastectomy, then it’s a quick lunch, and an appointment with my oncologist. And still no time to meditate, let alone get some yoga practice in.

On the plus side, it’s all about being well again, which means that I can be of service to friends that are currently Going Through It. As eager as I am to get back to work again, I’m grateful for the opportunity to be available right now.