So, how is my meditation going? It’s going bad. And yet, I continue to sit every single day. Twice, on most days. I sit longer than usual. The more unpleasant and fruitless my meditation appears to be, the longer I sit. I can’t afford a meditation cushion, so I roll a thick blanket, put a copy of Umberto Eco’s “History of Beauty” or Henry Miller’s “Sexus” or “The Plays” of Slawomir Mrozek underneath (for additional firmness) – and meditate.
This morning I sat to meditate before the sunrise, still in the dark and finished when the morning was already bright. Buddho. “Bu” on in-breath. “Do” on out-breath. After 40 minutes I couldn’t feel my legs (need to check if “On Ugliness”, “Nexus” or “Plexus” are a bit thicker…) so I did a few minutes of walking meditation. Left leg – “Bu”. Right leg – “do”. And then I continued to sit.
I’ve come across these words. This is exactly why I continue to sit:
The entire practice rests on the faith, verified in experience, that the field of vast brightness is ours from the outset. [Hongzhi]
Bad At Being Still 