Last night I didn’t feel like sitting at all. I had done 30 minutes in the morning already. Tired out after a long day full of tension, pressure, and stress. Despite everything, I sat for 20 minutes. It was so pleasant. So good. So calm. My theory: it was so because I didn’t expect anything from my meditation last night. I didn’t hope for fruition. So I just sat there… not trying… not expecting… just curiously monitoring body sensations and following my breath. And the peace just happened on its own.
This morning worry and stress woke me up before 4 am. I sat for 40 minutes before 5am. Did I meditate or did I sleep? A little bit of both. So embarrassing. I was really hoping that the years of meditating and pondering about the nature of self, thoughts, mind, consciousness, suffering etc. will lead me somewhere.
But hey, as a wise man once said: “If I’m making a cake and it fails it becomes a pudding.” So there must be a lesson in my continuous failing at meditation. I will find one. I must. I don’t have a choice. But not now. I’m so sleepy.
Bad At Being Still 