My mind has been agitated lately. A series of skirmishes with life has left me feeling quite anxious. Reading anything but a brief news feed becomes difficult and my internal monologue is repetitive and stale. I am currently acutely aware of the correlation between my agitated mind and a shallow mood. So what to do? Interestingly enough, many shrinks I know are on some form of antidepressant medication, or are self medicating low mood through the common strategies such as compulsive series watching, alcohol, smoking pot, pornography etc. I’ve had a brush with one or more of these dark little friends over the years, I’ve also tried multiple workshops and retreats offering masculinity, miracles, holotropic breathing, medicinal plants, lucid dreaming, conscious coupling, conscious uncoupling, yoga, mindfulness, a dizzying array of self help literature, blogs, lectures, the list goes on- and where has it all led my curious, sometimes ferocious often anxious mind? Back to the mat, back to my little cushion with a picture of a chihuahua on it. Perhaps that’s all this self important mind is in the mirror, a yapping little chihuahua who doesn’t know when to keep his little trap shut. So, this morning, at 4:37a.m. I dragged the yapping little shit to my cushion, lit a candle and made it sit. Boy was it hard. Yap, yap…on and on it went, parading an endless stream of mind confetti. I kept returning to my breath as I had been shown…again and again, my mind strained at its breath-leash, unaccustomed to not being able to have its way. Puppy training classes. I wasn’t cruel as I tugged on the leash, bringing my mind back to the breath again and again and again, I was patient, prepared to sit for as long as it would take. Slowly, ever so slowly it began to sit with me, seconds initially, then a minute or two, then off it would dash. I can see that it’s going to take some time, but that’s ok. I’m clear that making the time to sit with my mind and let it know , through the breath, that it is safe, that it can come to rest, will bring a sense of calm that I am aching for as weather pulls through my life, one breath at a time.
I’m awake in the thin hours again. I dreamt that I was flying through a furious storm with a choir of wounded Angels.