The Year of Doing Nothing (post 2.04)
Doing nothing is extremely challenging. If you meditate, you may not need to read further because you already know what I am talking about. We can't sit on a cushion attempting to not think for more than a few seconds before a thought arises. We can be sitting on a cushion for minutes at a time thinking before we notice we are thinking. It happens to all of us. It happens all the time.
This morning I'm realizing that a subtle aggression has crept into my practice. Each week for the past several weeks I have been berating myself for not posting more on my Blog. It started out in my head as a gentle reminder, then worked it's way into the quietly whispered "I should", and "oh, didn't I want to post at least four times a week", and then before I knew it, I was practically shouting at myself,- in my head of course.
Check back with me to Blog Post 1.04. Clearly, I am aiming this year to reduce the "shoulds". Clearly, my desire to document my progress during this Year of Doing Nothing, has become a "should", a kind of battle in my head. Here I am, caught in my web again. So I stop. I recognize what's happening. I am gentle with myself. I begin my practice again.
Often times, when I am not engaged in this battle, my writing flows more freely anyway.
I discovered an interesting entry in Pema Chodron's book, Start Where You Are. On page 26 she states, "Write less; don't try to capture it all on paper. Sometimes writing, instead of being a fresh take, is like trying to catch something and nail it down. This capturing blinds us and there's no fresh outlook, no wide-open eyes, no curiousity."
There is a paradox here. As I try to remain in my practice, fresh insights come to me. In fact, I am somewhat surprised at how many insights I've had since January. I am excited to write them all down and hoplessly behind in doing so. But as I try to capture these insights here on my Blog, I have already begun to solidify in my observation, potentialy blinding myself from fresh insight. It is an interesting balancing act, indeed.