12 Nov. No funny hats required.

Meditation is going great. Again. For now. Effortless. My attention is somewhere between the stillness and the emptiness of my body, steady and mechanical movement of my breath and the lively stream of thoughts. When I’m focused my thoughts stop flowing. When I’m not, the thinking process begins. The longer I manage to stay focused the more pleasant meditation is. Maintaining focus is just as any other skill. Nothing supernatural about it. No magical chants or funny hats required. Just a good old biology. There is no me.

I went for a run yesterday morning. I run every week again. I love it. I could run forever. There was no rain. The mesmerising sweet smell of late autumn in my lungs. Distant weak sun peeking through the clouds. Green leaves holding on to the tree branches and the brown ones lying on the ground rotting away forever. What a blessing! And the Irish landscape making me dizzy: beautiful rural roads, farms, hunters with rifles standing on the side of the road drinking beer from dark bottles, steep green hills, patches of forests, beaches, cliffs, and of course the majestic and indifferent sea that is here to witness our raise and fall, to teach us about impermanence, to teach us humility.

 

 

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