ten minutes of breathing then ten minutes of jazz

I've fallen into a habit on most workdays... after rising and breakfasting and computering and showering... I crawl back into bed for ten minutes.

It started in the longest nights of winter so maybe it was a hope of hibernating, however, it seemed to be a less restful ten minutes of my mind racing. So now it has become an attempt to slow my mind and watch my breath before work.

That is quite a task as surely I need those ten minutes to plan my school day. So, here is to breathing and watching the process and letting the rest of the looming day be quiet.


I did a search ten minutes jazz...

what I might have said....

It was one of those Sundays when our rector opened the sermon up for discussion. But first he spoke about John's repeated mention of Jesus referring to himself as bread and wine, body and blood. The rector spoke of how every Sunday Eucharist is a relatively recent practice of the Episcopal church..

At first I thought about saying how grateful I am that it is weekly and how it draws me to church every week, but so does the friends, the coffee, the hymns, but not the donuts, which could be so much better. Several spoke similar thoughts (about being grateful of it's weekly nature, not of the donuts), so I sat quiet. Comfortable in my silence.

Anyway, just about the time he wrapped it up, my mind made a connection... so if I had spoke..

"The words I whisper as I take the bread. The words I whisper as I take the wine. I carry these back to my seat and as I bow my head, I pray these words.

INHALE... renew me

EXHALE... cleanse me

These are the words I have taken often into my meditation with friends at work on Wednesday afternoons. I try to keep my wondering mind silent by focusing on my Eucharistic prayer"

anyway that is what I would have said. And if I had rambled on some more maybe I would have spoken...

"Maybe I desire the weekly Eucharist because I so need to be reminded of what I need so much of in my life. And maybe I feel so alert and awake driving home Wednesday afternoons is because I have asked for renewal and a cleansing."

who knows?


...

some thoughts on meditation

an e-mail came today which left me baffled. What could I say about going to meditate with co-workers that may inspire others to come also?

I didn't even respond when they sent out the initial e-mail asking if anyone was interested. I had once struggled through a weekend of meditation and had come to the conclusion, it was not for me...

Soon the e-mail came out announcing the times they would meet and a few nights later I picked up Frederick Buechner's Wishful Thinking and opened it up...

In our minds we are continually chatting with ourselves, and the purpose of meditation is to stop it...

... The end of mediation is to become empty enough to be filled with the kind of stillness the Psalmist has in mind when he says, "Be still, and know that I am God."

OK, so maybe it was a random moment, but I used it as a motivation to show up one afternoon. Some days I attempted some mindful nodding off. Well, to put it more correctly, I did some unmindful nodding off. When my focus left my breathing or the short prayer I try to center myself upon and instead found itself catching onto an intrusive thought, I floated right into a good chattering mind. I must have become bored with my often heard self-thoughts and started nodding off.

There was a day when I felt awake throughout the meditation and thought, "so maybe I can do this without coffee..."

The last time I went, I left feeling awake and clear in thought. It may never happen again, but it is worth going to clear the chattering from my mind every once in a while. I have gotten to know two wonderful folk and who knows who else I may meet along the way.

retreat... 2- the night before, the day after

So there it was the night before the retreat and it was getting a bit late when Mosaic Woman pondered if I planned to pack art supplies. It had not occurred to me, just as it had not occurred to me to pack before it got a bit late. So I grabbed my blue and my violet and my green prisma color pencils and sharpened them. I started the doodle Friday night, thought "sea slug." and by Saturday night it was finished. It is my first "serious" doodle in a long time. Stained glass work will do that. But it felt good and right. The same feelings as returning to prayer. I am sure a good friend or Jesuit would want me to take notice of these feelings...

A while back an email came forth at work about interest in a meditation group. I either ignored it or forgot about it. Then an e-mail came out announcing the times. Today I made it for the third time. It was just myself and one of the leaders, a new therapist with whom I had yet to converse with at the school.

Now we have. I told her I had been a lot less groggy today even though I had spent 200 minutes gardening in the humidity that has entered our region. She asked, "Did you have a good weekend?"

I told her about Wernersville. We talked.

...